To win the heart
by DreamingInColour
Summary: HPDM. After his parents murder Draco disappears from the wizarding world to become a muggle. After nearly 10 years Harry comes across him purely by chance. Can Harry convince Draco to return with him to face his past? M/M.
1. Where did you go?

Okay, this is a new story that I just can't get out of my head. I've been going with it since I'm experiencing writers block with An Unorthodox Love Story – I have the plot all planned out but I wasn't happy with how Ch 13 was being written so I'm loosening myself up with this one which has basically no planned plot so we'll see how it turns out shall we?

This disclaimer is for the _whole story_ because I'm tired of trying to remember for every chapter in An Unorthodox Love Story. Rather annoying. Harry Potter – the world and characters – belong to JK Rowling, I am borrowing them for my own amusement and won't be making any money from it.

This follows Deathly Hallows – so spoiler alert, but if you haven't read it yet what the hell are you doing reading fanfiction? – doesn't include the epilogue. Also my sex scenes – when they happen – are not for the faint-hearted (but neither are they pornographic) just be warned.

Here we go…

* * *

Chapter 1: Where did you go?

Despite the unexpected gray gloom of this early-September day Harry Potter felt the same exhilarating rush of freedom that his anonymity in the muggle world always brought him. The clouds were so thick that the promise of rain was only minutes away and so he rushed with the rest of the bustling Londoners; his face was downcast as he weaved in and out of the crowd but a smile played on his lips with barely contained excitement. He always felt like this in muggle London – unburdened, carefree and high on life as though all his problems were left behind in the wizarding world and he was a whole new unscarred 26 year old man.

This particular trip to the muggle world had only one purpose; Hermione's birthday present. Hermione and Ron had married 4 years before and despite his best efforts there were still many things about the muggle world Ron didn't understand. He did well enough at Hermione's parents house now and the few hours Ron spent with the Granger's every week slowly turned from fascinating/potentially-life-threatening to interesting/mildly-dangerous. That being said, Ron never went so far as to attempt to buy something for Hermione's birthday in the muggle world – that was left to Harry.

This trip Harry was heading to this extraordinary book store he had stumbled across about 4 months ago and logged away for this particular reason – he knew Hermione would adore it, besides, as it was, he didn't have too long to spare today present shopping and you couldn't go wrong with books for Hermione.

He felt the rain lightly begin to splatter across his face as he stepped to the stale air of the book store. _Just in time_, Harry thought as he turned to the grimy window and watched the muggles scatter when the heavens opened and the rain came down in torrents.

The store was old and all of its stock was second-hand but they were almost all in immaculate condition. Harry wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for but he was certain he would know when he found it. He perused the various shelves, bypassing War History and Biographies, and settled into Classic Fiction. There were the usual characters there: Austen, Dickens, Hardy, James – Hermione had most of her favourites already and Harry didn't know enough to be able to add to her collection without getting something she already had or didn't like. He was about to move on again when a large navy blue book caught his eye. It was plain and unmarked but after pulling it off the shelf he was able to see the title written in loopy golden lettering: 'Grimm Fairy Tales'. _Interesting_. He opened the front cover of the heavy book to find the contents, it had all the ones he knew like Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel, Rapunzel, Snow White and Cinderella, then there were others he didn't know like The Travelling Musicians, Mistress Holle and The Blue Light.

Harry was intrigued and smiling.

Hermione had given birth to her first child only 18 months before – a girl, Rose Weasley – and Harry could just imagine Hermione cuddled up with Rose at bed-time reading to her from this book. Hermione treasured the book of wizard fairy tales Dumbledore had left her in his will, the one containing the story of the Three Brothers – Harry's ancestors – and while he was certain she valued it for more than its stories, he knew she already read them to Rose and he couldn't help but feel that the book he held in his hands was actually rather perfect for her.

He checked his watch and relaxed, pleased to find he had another hour and a half before he had to be back and would be able to have an uninterrupted muggle lunch – perhaps in a quiet pub somewhere – instead of his usual 2 minute lunch which he ate cramped behind his desk at the Ministry. He had long given up trying to lunch in public in the wizarding world and had taken to avoiding most people these days – it always seemed that somebody wanted something out of him. After nearly 10 years he'd managed to work out who was worth doing favours for and who wasn't.

With the heavy book in his arms Harry walked up to the counter to pay, the store was relatively empty so it wasn't too hard to notice when a blur of white blonde hair practically ran from the little shop. Harry dropped the heavy book on the front desk just as the door slammed shut and the old man behind the checkout held up a blue plastic bag and called "Mr Black! You forgot your purchase!"

Harry's whizzing little Auror mind never even bothered to tell him why he ran out after this stranger 'Mr Black' it just told him to go and quickly. So he did.

Darting out into the rain his eyes expertly searched for the white blonde head of hair he saw running out the door. The smudged grey sky and thick rain seemed to dull all the other colours around him except that which he searched for. Among the crowd of people this mans hair seemed luminescent and thankfully it was easy to follow. Once he'd locked eyes on him Harry knew at once who he was and why he was chasing him; Draco Malfoy. Sub-consciously Harry was probably always searching for Draco Malfoy.

_You're n__ot getting away this time,_ he thought.

The realization of how close he was and the thought that it may be another 9 years before he got this close again spurred him on as he pushed roughly through the crowd. The rain was still coming down but not as hard and for this Harry was so very grateful.

He watched as Malfoy turned and swiftly entered the lobby of a large glass building. Harry followed and thankfully caught him at the elevators.

"Malfoy!" he called out.

Malfoy didn't turn; instead he began to repeatedly push the up button of the elevator. Harry was crossing the lobby floor in great strides and Malfoy started eyeing the door to the staircase.

"Malfoy! Don't even try it!" Harry warned.

Malfoy tried it. He was in the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time and was one floor on Harry almost the whole way.

"For God's sake Malfoy – STOP!" Harry screeched up the stairs as he chased the blonde.

Malfoy didn't stop. Glancing around him, Harry made sure there was no one else in the stairwell before pulling out his wand.

"_Impedimenta!_" he yelled. His spell hit Malfoy square between the shoulder blades – perfect aim as always. Malfoy slowed immediately barely managing another 2 more steps before Harry closed the distance between them and released him from his spell.

Yep, it was Draco Malfoy alright. His eyes were as grey and stormy as the outside sky and his face still held a certain smug haughtiness, although this time Harry could see a hint of blinding fear like a deer trapped on the wrong end of a hunter's rifle.

"I'm not here to arrest you Malfoy," Harry said trying to reassure his old schoolyard rival.

"I don't know who you are or what you're talking about," the blonde stated.

"Don't be a prat Malfoy; you're too old for that."

"My name is _not_ Malfoy."

"This is going to get old really quickly," Harry huffed in frustration, but his tone had a threatening edge to it.

Malfoy didn't respond. Harry could see his eyes flitting around looking for the fastest escape.

"Just be straight with me Malfoy. I just want to know where you've been and why you haven't been back."

"My name _isn't_ Malfoy and even if it were it would be _absolutely _none of your business where I've been." Malfoy's eyes were defiant. "Just leave me alone," he added, trying to step around Harry.

"Come on, _Malfoy_," Harry accentuated the other man's name to illustrate his non-compliance. "You changed your name to _Black_? I mean _really_, your mother's maiden name? You might be a little less obvious and pick something random if you didn't ever want to be found."

"If you aren't here to arrest me then _push off Potter!_ Don't stick your nose where it isn't wanted. I can choose to live as I want." Malfoy tried to pass Harry again.

"_Live as you want!? _As a _muggle_!? The Malfoy I know would sooner die!"

"Yeah but the Malfoy you knew died with the war and was buried with his parents," Malfoy barked at Harry.

Harry felt like he'd been slapped in the face. Malfoy used Harry's dazed shock and managed to get around him this time, he didn't run up the stairs this time though but took them slowly. Harry snapped out of his trance to watch the blonde walk away, for a moment he contemplated letting him go. Unfortunately, however, when it came to Draco Malfoy Harry was never able to let anything go.

"I'm an Auror you know," he called up after him. "I work for the Ministry."

Malfoy stopped and looked down to where Harry still stood. "I guessed as much," he responded. He wasn't cold or harsh, but exhausted. Tired. Again Harry briefly considered leaving and pretending this never happened – briefly.

"You are an unsolved missing person's case," Harry continued. "I might be obliged to report this to them unless you can convince me otherwise."

Malfoy was silent for a moment; he just stared at Harry as if he was considering his options. Harry didn't prompt him, the ball was in Malfoy's court and Harry needed to wait for him to hit it back.

"You're a total bastard, Potter. Do you know that?" Malfoy finally said as he began his descent back down the stairs.

Harry could tell Malfoy was angry – furious actually – but Harry wondered if he wasn't also just a little relieved.

"I've got an hour before I have to be back at work," Harry started tentatively. "How about some lunch?"

"Yeah, whatever," Malfoy grumbled.

* * *

Harry Potter was one of the last people on Earth Draco wanted to run into, so today was turning out to be – well, to be honest – really shit. Julie – his rather incredible secretary who he had come to rely on heavily – had called in sick this morning so he'd spent most of the morning answering his calls directly because the temp he'd called for at 7am this morning couldn't be in until half past 11. Once the temp had arrived he'd gone for a walk to de-stress and ended up in his favourite book store which had been rather nice until he had run into Potter. Now he was leading Potter to his favourite Chinese restaurant because – as much as he loathed the idea of Potter knowing where he liked to eat – there was no _way_ he would be sitting through this inevitable conversation unless the food was good. _Something_ about today had to go right.

They stepped into the restaurant and Jimmy, Draco's usual waiter, lead them to Draco's usual table in a quiet back corner – away from everyone else.

"Pleased to see you again, Mr. Black," Jimmy greeted him as he subtly looked over Harry and threw him a shy smile.

"I'm having a bad day, Jimmy," Draco complained as he sat down.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sir. Will your friend need some time with the menu?" Jimmy asked.

"Oh, yes please," Harry smiled. "Just a few minutes will be fine."

Draco pointedly ignored Harry as his eyes swept over the menu in front of him. Jimmy came back to take their order with Draco's usual Gin and Tonic.

"Ready to order yet, Sir," Jimmy asked Harry.

"Ah yes please. I'll have a Bourbon and Coke and the Chicken and Vegetables with fried noodles." Harry looked up at Jimmy and smiled. "Thanks."

"Not a problem," Jimmy nodded and walked off.

Harry looked at Draco in surprise. "Aren't you eating?" he asked.

"Jimmy knows what I want," Draco said casually.

"I take it you come here a lot then?"

"All the time so don't you even _think _about coming here looking for me after today. Do that and I'll hex you into next year! This place is my sanctuary and my sanity, understand?"

"Loud and clear," Harry confirmed.

"I won't have you ruin it with your presence."

"Okay, I get it I won't come back without your expressed permission!"

"Fine. Let's get on with it then," Draco huffed impatiently.

Harry hesitated, smiling as Jimmy placed his Bourbon on the table. "Okay, well start from the beginning," Harry prompted once the waiter was out of earshot. "Why did you leave?"

"_Why did I leave?_" Draco said mocking Harry's question. "Are you stupid?"

"You had other options, Malfoy!"

"Other options? _Really?_ What were they? Stay and die?" he laughed sarcastically.

"You had protection," Harry said quietly knowing it wasn't completely true.

"Yeah great protection," Draco scoffed.

"I was there! I would have…" Harry's sentence trailed off into nothing.

"You were a 17 year old kid, like me. You would have gotten yourself killed too."

"I would have protected you, even if the others didn't."

"Shut up, Potter. You know why I left – next question," Draco stated firmly. He was keen to get this over with and they were already having difficulty getting past the _first_ question.

"Okay, where did you go?"

"Tokyo," Draco answered shortly without further elaboration.

"Look Malfoy, I'm not here for one word answers. This will go a lot quicker and smoother if you just explain it all. Where you went, what you did while you were there, how long you were there for… You get the picture," Harry implored him frustrated.

"Fine," Draco agreed before continuing with his story. "I went to Tokyo, Japan – wizard Tokyo, that is – got myself a room at one of their extravagant hotels and stayed in bed for nearly a week ordering room service and feeling sorry for myself. Then I started going out into the city more indulging myself basically – drowning my sorrows in alcohol and sex. I wasn't very discrete, that's probably how they found me." Draco paused when he noticed Jimmy coming over with their food.

"Thanks," Harry nodded as his meal was placed in front of him. "Who found you?" he asked Draco.

"Who do you think!?" Draco barked at Harry quietly. "Stop asking stupid questions, Potter, I don't have the patience today!"

"Who specifically Malfoy?" Harry retorted.

"Well, take a guess Auror Potter – who in the Dark Lord's inner circle haven't you caught yet?" Draco quipped.

"The Carrows are the big ones, but there's a few others," Harry offered.

"Bingo."

"The Carrows?"

"Yes, Potter! Jesus, you _are_ stupid aren't you!?"

"Shut up and get on with it. So they found you in Tokyo?" Harry asked, ignoring Draco's jibes at him.

"Yes they found me in Tokyo and it was a rather narrow escape. It took me a while to convince myself – and another jaunt in the wizarding world in America – but eventually I came to the conclusion that I had to keep my contact with wizards to a minimum. Erase Draco Malfoy. I made friends with a muggle-born in Chicago who showed me the basics – money, electricity, lights, microwaves, fridges, toasters, cars, planes – and that was it. I bought myself a new muggle identity – papers and that – and month later I was on a flight to Sydney, Australia where I had my first 5 years as a muggle. About 4 years ago I had the opportunity to come back to London and I took it. I've been here for 3 and a half years now."

"Wow," Harry breathed. "So you work?"

"Yeah, when I was in Sydney I met my best friend Jared who was fresh out of University and cocky as hell. I'd been living off my parents' money for about 2 years and I was looking for a change – working I guess, like a normal muggle – Jared was full of ideas and I had the capital so eventually we started our own business in trade and it boomed. Over the 5 years I was in Sydney it turned into a multi-million dollar enterprise and so we expanded, when Jared brought up having an office in London I offered to head it."

"You're heading the London branch of a multi-million dollar – I mean pound – urgh, that's confusing," Harry paused as his brain tripped over currency conversions (he thought it was bad enough converting galleons and pounds, adding dollars as well was too much) and Draco rolled his eyes. "Anyway, you're heading a _muggle_ enterprise? What do you know about muggle business?"

"I've learned some!" Draco pouted. "Besides, that's why I've got Callum! He does the 'business' side of the business; I mostly sweet talk the big-wigs and go over the major decisions with Jared."

Harry laughed. "I'm sure they'd just fall apart without you Malfoy," he teased.

"Stop calling me Malfoy, that hasn't been my name for a long time."

"Okay, sorry! Draco Black – like I said before – inconspicuous…" Harry said still teasing the blonde.

"_Leo Black_," Draco said frowning.

"Leo?" Harry raised his eyebrows at the name – Draco didn't exactly look like a _Leo_.

"It's a constellation of stars, Potter, like _Draco_."

"I thought Draco was Latin for 'dragon'."

"It is dim-wit, but my parents named me for the stars not the dragons," Draco said rolling his eyes again. It seemed he couldn't help himself when it came to Harry Potter – for all the maturity and world perspective he'd developed over the last 10 years as a muggle, Harry seemed to erase it all and make him a 15 year old ass-face again.

* * *

Both Harry and Draco finished off their meals and Draco got up to leave; Harry followed. Harry's stomach was full and he was sleepy and satisfied. Draco was right the food here was amazing and they served _so much _of it! He found himself still eating long after he should have stopped simply because it was too delicious to leave on the plate.

"So not thinking of coming back to our world then?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ask me again when you've captured the Carrows," Draco replied easily.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Harry surrendered, raising both his hands to demonstrate. "Want any gossip from our world then? I bet you're just dying to know what became of all our classmates!" Harry laughed teasingly.

"Only _my_ friends Potter."

"Of course, who do you want to know about?" Harry asked as they pushed back on to the cool streets of London.

Harry started to walk down the path, away from Draco's office building.

"Oi, Potter! This way!" Draco called.

"Walk back to the book store with me," Harry requested. "I left the book I wanted to buy in there and so did you if I remember right."

Draco nodded and walked over to join Harry as they wandered back up towards that gem of a book shop.

"Tell me about Pansy," Draco demanded.

"Married to Terence Higgs – he's a bit older than her, was Slytherin Seeker before you. I think they have two kids, or one and one on the way. I can't remember. The first was a girl I think, don't remember her name."

"Is she happy, do you know?" Draco asked quietly.

"Yeah, I think so. Hard to tell with her though, she always looks cranky around me."

Draco laughed. "I wonder why!"

"She was the one who made me write you up as a missing person so we'd have to look for you on an official basis. Asks me about our progress every time she sees me which is about every 2 months or so – only when I bump into her at the Ministry."

Draco smiled again. "Sounds like her. You guys didn't look too hard then if you couldn't find me but _they_ could!"

"Yeah well you were of age and we had a pretty fair idea of what happened. I mean you left me a note it wasn't as if you were kidnapped." Harry explained.

Draco lowered his eyes to the ground and watched his feet as he walked. They settled into an awkward silence. Harry imagined that mentioning the note brought back other memories too; he wondered which ones were occupying Draco's mind right now. He knew what he was thinking about.

Eventually, Draco broke the silence to ask about another Slytherin and the two young men continued their conversation. Harry told Draco what had become of many of his friends – not all of the stories were good, many ended up in Azkaban – and other people Draco knew but wasn't friends with, including Ron and Hermione. Surprisingly, Draco let Harry prattle on about his pretty-much-niece Rosie without comment.

* * *

As Harry was reluctantly bidding Draco farewell and wishing him luck outside his office building they were interrupted by a rather attractive – which Harry noticed enthusiastically – young man. He was about their age, maybe a little older, and he was approaching them with a wide grin.

"Leo!" he called out.

Harry saw Draco cringe and heard him mutter something that sounded like 'Ah shit.'

"Leo, you old dog!" the man greeted. "Who's this handsome devil?"

The young man looked Harry up and down and stuck his hand out to introduce himself. Harry could tell by his accent that this man was Australian.

_Gorgeous_, Harry thought and presented the man with a charming smile to rival even Gilderoy Lockhart's.

"Harry Potter, nice to meet you," Harry said taking the man's hand.

"Callum Hughes." The man smiled back and shook Harry's hand firmly. "Leo never told me he had a new man."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco and had to suppress a laugh at the appalled expression on Draco's face. Harry was surprised too; he didn't know Draco was gay. He had guessed – they kissed once, in another life it seemed – but he didn't know for sure.

"He's not my boyfriend, Cal," Draco hissed through gritted teeth.

"No," Harry admitted. "We're old school rivals. I just bumped into – _Leo_ – today actually. I haven't seen him in nearly 10 years."

"Interesting, interesting…" Callum mused. "Which team do you bat for then Handsome Harry?"

Harry couldn't tell if Callum was flirting for himself or sizing him up as a match for Draco. He hoped for the first, although Draco would never allow it anyway – if he dated his friend Callum it would place him uncomfortably close to Draco's everyday life. Besides that, Harry had never dated a muggle – fucked a muggle? Absolutely. Dated one? Never.

Of course this muggle looked completely shagable…

Harry laughed at Callum's very forthright question. "I'm gay," he admitted. "Tried the straight thing for a while in school, didn't work out for me."

"You should come to my birthday piss-up on Saturday," Callum invited Harry.

"NO! Absolutely not! No! Potter – get lost!" Draco snapped, pointing for Harry to leave.

"Leo, _shut up!_ Harry, it's _my_ birthday and _I_ want you there!"

"What!? No! You don't even know him, Cal," Draco pleaded before turning to Harry. "He's straight anyway!" he told him.

Harry tipped his head to the side and pouted cutely to show his disappointment. "Shame," he teased Callum.

"Leo isn't the only gay hottie I know Harry, there will be _plenty_ to choose from. Besides I know absolutely nothing about Leo's childhood. It's like he had no past when I met him. _You_ are a miracle! I was beginning to think he was born a rich 19 year old with no family."

"NO Cal! He's not coming! I won't go if he does!" Draco whined.

"Don't chuck a tantrum Le! What are you 5 years old!? Harry is invited and he _will_ be there, won't you?"

Callum glared at Harry with raised eyebrows and a 'you better be there' expression.

Harry nodded.

"See. And if you don't go I get to get him drunk and question him _extensively_ about your early years _unless_ you happen to come along to referee…"

Draco sighed. "I hate you," he said to Callum with affectionate frustration. "Right, back to work," Draco ordered, effectively breaking up their gathering.

Harry couldn't help himself, as he watched Draco lead Callum back to their office; he had to call out one last thing. He berated himself for asking as soon as he got back to his desk and had time to replay the whole situation in his head – _I should have just left it_ – but in that moment it seemed important.

"Hey Malf – er, Leo! Hey Leo!" he called awkwardly. "Are you happy?" he asked sincerely.

Draco turned and stared at Harry for a few seconds and Callum looked on curiously. Unless he was mistaken, Harry swore he saw Draco cringe – just a little – before nodding.

Harry nodded once before turning to leave.

* * *

Okay, hope you liked it. Be patient with the updates and go nuts with the reviews – they are my happiness.

I called this 'The Kiss' because I'm super shit with titles and this story stems from a kiss Harry and Draco shared that changes both their lives dramatically – particularly Draco's if you can't half tell.

Anyway, Reviews puh-leeeaze!

xo


	2. The Aftermath

Hello lovers! I'm back and here is Chapter 2. The whole chapter is a flashback except for the last little bit. Its set just after Deathly Hallows our boys are both 17…

That's about it. Read on and review at the end.

* * *

Chapter 2: The aftermath

**9 years earlier…**

The aftermath of the war found Harry living with the Weasley's in the Burrow for nearly 6 months before Arthur came home with some news that would change Harry's life completely.

In the first few weeks of those 6 months, Harry felt like an intruder. Losing Fred had left a hole in the family that nothing seemed to fill. It seemed Fred took with him George's life force and no one ever really knew just how much those twins gave that family. Molly's constant barrage of threats – "If you two keep that up…!" – and her exasperated sighs over their antics and morally questionable merchandise for their booming business would have you think those twins were the bane of her life, turning her red hair grey. But the loss of one brother felt like the loss of the Weasley family's soul and Harry – while he felt it too – felt like he was intruding on an extremely private time that shouldn't be witnessed by an outsider.

Hermione was there as well but Harry never discussed feeling like this with her – not even after years had passed, he'd never talked about it. They talked about Fred and their memories of him, but they never discussed those first few months. It was just too horrible.

The string of funerals Harry, Hermione and Ron attended following the big battle was soul destroying. Harry numbly attended them all feeling weaker and weaker after each one until he felt nothing at all. Many of the funerals buried more than one friend at once and some days held more than one funeral – morning and afternoon sessions. Harry found tears for his family – Fred, Lupin, Tonks, even Colin Creevey he cried for – but for others he found a vast expanse of nothingness inside and it scared him. He went so long living with this numbness, he soon couldn't remember what it was like to feel at all – it infected his mind, his spirit and his body.

One morning after a shower as he was drying off Harry stared at his chest and realized he couldn't feel his heart beating, he concentrated on feeling it for a long while – he didn't know how long, time had warped after the war, seconds were sometimes hours and hours were sometimes minutes – but however long he was there for it didn't beat once. He was dead too. He began to wonder if he had died that day, if Voldemort had won and was still alive.

_Maybe this numbness isn't grief__ – its death. _

Then Ginny banged on the bathroom door to see if he was okay and he snapped out of his trance to check his pulse with his fingers – he felt the steady thump-thump of his blood as it was pushed through his veins; his heartbeat.

He didn't know if he was glad to find it or not.

* * *

One evening, about 6 months into his stay at the Weasley's, Arthur came home with some news that brought feeling back into Harry's fingertips and would come to bring feeling back into his heart.

"Hello Weasleys," Arthur greeted them as he always did. He never acknowledged that Harry or Hermione weren't _actually_ Weasleys, Harry knew this was because to Arthur they were family. Harry wished he could feel something to recognize this privilege.

"I have some news," Arthur continued after he received his welcome home from his family. "The Malfoy's were murdered last night."

"_What!?_" Harry yelped feeling shock zing through his body – it was unpleasant but strangely welcome.

"Yes, apparently some of the Death Eaters that managed to escape have been after them for helping you."

Harry had – through his grief induced haze – managed to stand up and tell his story at the Malfoys' trial. As much as he despised that whole family if it hadn't been for Narcissa he would be dead and it was likely that everyone else would have suffered a similar fate had Voldemort lived and defeated him. Much to his disappointment, Harry's story was widely publicized throughout the wizarding community world-wide and he was made to recount events he had hoped to keep private. It was the story of his life and he did it as he had done most things – reluctantly, however, his conscience would allow no alternative, and it had saved the Malfoy family; all three rather narrowly escaped Azkaban only to be placed under Auror protection not a week later after the first attempt was made on their lives.

Harry knew of the continued threat to the Malfoy family but he had been assured that they were under strict Auror protection; he was puzzled as to how they had been killed then.

He voiced this to Arthur.

"They were yes, apparently the Aurors were Stunned, they and the boy ended up in hospital, Kingsley said he was in bad shape – they aren't sure how he will go," Arthur explained.

"The boy?" Harry questioned, praying his school nemesis was still alive.

"Yes, the Malfoy boy – Draco."

"He's at St. Mungo's?" Harry asked, rising from his chair at the dining table as he waited for dinner to be served.

"Yes, Harry. What-?"

"I'm sorry everyone I have to go. I'll be back later," Harry murmured, he was deep in thought and pulling on his coat.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny stood to join him and Molly looked on, confused at what was happening.

Harry had a handful of Floo powder before he noticed any of this.

"I'm sorry," he said just before he left. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I know this is weird but I have to go." He pointedly threw Ginny a pained and apologetic expression before Flooing out.

Hermione and Ron had been taking great comfort in each others company, distracting each other with kisses and touches. He never said but he knew they were already having sex. He wondered if the numbness had poisoned their nerve endings like his and if sex was their release – their reminder that they weren't dead too. Ginny gazed at him more than he noticed – she so clearly wanted that same kind of comfort from him, even openly suggesting it at one stage. He couldn't oblige her, even as much as he needed reminding of his own heartbeat too.

* * *

He stepped into the cool air of St. Mungo's easily and it seemed to breathe new life into him; he hadn't realized how stuffy the Burrow had gotten. Arthur had gone back to work out of necessity after 6 weeks, Bill went back to work only a week before Arthur, Charlie stayed for 3 weeks then went back to Romania and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had been closed for some time now. Hermione was due to start her studies in medicine next September so in true Hermione fashion she was currently reading through her textbooks. Although they were far from emotionally ready, she had managed to get Harry and Ron to apply for entry into the Auror program which they were also due to start next September.

Hogwarts was still closed as it was being repaired and many students had been sent overseas to complete their schooling. For a select few, however, Professor McGonagall had arranged informal NEWT exams so that they might officially graduate with as little effort as possible; she, more than most, understood their need to move on to the next part of their life. Hermione had drilled them all vigorously and they sat their exams with very little problems. Harry's grades were better than Ron's and although neither was _exactly _over the minimum requirements for Auror training, they were both extremely close and Kingsley graciously overlooked that little formality and he would never regret doing so – Ron and Harry would become the team's best Aurors. After some very fast talking, Ginny had managed to convince her mother that she neither wanted nor needed to complete her education – she would help George with the shop instead when it reopened.

Harry felt shakey as he walked up to the counter to ask after Draco Malfoy's whereabouts. He hadn't spent much time in public but it didn't surprise him when the whole room seemed to pause as he entered. The crowd parted for him and he didn't have to wait any time at all before he was lead to Malfoy's private room by an overly excited mediwizard. Harry noted the Auror in the corridor who barely even looked up when he approached and stepped through the door.

_Doesn't he care?_ Harry wondered. _I could be anyone, he didn't even look…_

Malfoy was small and frail looking in the hospital bed; he was asleep. Harry tiptoed over quietly to look at him. He wasn't sure what Malfoy would make of him coming to visit and wasn't really keen to find out, especially since he was unsure about what to make of himself being there. He had no reason and could give no explanation.

He watched the blonde sleeping for far longer than he should have; he examined his face and his harsh and pointed features, even asleep he looked unpleasant. His hair didn't shine like it used to, it was dirty and knotted together and grown out longer than Harry's. Harry wondered what Draco Malfoy had been doing these last 6 months, where he had been hiding with his family and what had happened to him that led him here to this hospital bed. Harry remembered why he had come and what Arthur had told him and he remembered with unexpected force; _Malfoy was alone._ Harry watched the rise and fall of the blankets as Malfoy breathed and he let the renewed sensation of feeling wash over him as he grieved Malfoy's loss for him; he was sad for his nemesis, but for himself he was relieved.

Harry sat with Malfoy for a long time as he slept, watching him breathe and wondering what was to become of his future. He also thought about his own life and situation with a clarity he had not had for a very long time. He realized that however much he loved the Weasley's and they loved him, it was time to move out; there was only so much time he could spend sleeping in Ron's room and he was probably 5 months past that point.

Harry wasn't sure how long he was there before Hermione came looking for him. He wasn't sure how she managed it, but thankfully she was alone. She smiled when she saw him but there was worry in her eyes and her shoulders slumped from exhaustion. She glanced briefly over to Malfoy, but focused on him as she crossed the room. As she stared her worried eyes cleared and she blinked in surprise, she even stood taller.

"Harry, you look well," she observed surprised. "Did they give you something?"

"What?" he asked confused. "No, I've just been sitting here."

"You look better," she said again.

"I feel better," he replied, smiling at her. It was his first genuine smile in months.

"I came to see how you were going," she explained. "I can't stay long or Ron will notice I'm missing. He's asleep right now." Hermione paused for a moment, looking uncomfortable. "Harry, what are you doing here?" she whispered.

Harry sighed. He knew he was going to have to answer this question sooner or later, but he was hoping for later. Or never. Never was good. He hadn't even answered himself – the part of his brain that was persistently nagging him _'what the hell are you doing!?'_ – he had managed to ignore it in favour of other, easier thoughts.

"I don't know," he confessed to her desperately. "I think I'm protecting him."

"From what?"

"From _them,_" he stated referring to the Death Eaters still at large. "From everyone."

"He has _Auror_ protection!"

"Did you see the Auror at the door?"

She nodded reluctantly as she knew immediately the point he was about to make.

"Did he stop you – ask who you were or what you were doing here? Did he even _look _at you!?" Harry asked, his questions were rhetorical but he waited for her answer anyway.

"No," she whispered shamefully.

"He has no protection," Harry stated.

"Okay, fair enough. But why did you come in the first place?" Hermione asked.

It was another question he didn't want to answer and at the same time, it was the same question she'd asked before. He still didn't know what he was doing here, not _really_. It was more than protecting him and it was more than regaining his senses, it was the answer to other impossible questions. _Why_ was he there protecting Malfoy? _Why _after months surrounded by the people who love him most, was it Malfoy that drove away the numbing emptiness that had consumed him so long?

"I _felt_ something," he admitted to his friend. "I've been lost and numb for so long and when Arthur told us about the Malfoys for the first time in a long time I _felt_ something."

"Felt what?" Hermione asked frowning.

"I don't know – shock, surprise, I'm not even sure, but it was _something!_ And since I've been here sitting with him I've felt nearly everything come back, just sitting here has made me feel more alive than I have since…" Harry didn't finish his sentence, he didn't need to – Hermione knew already.

"You look more alive," she admitted smiling at him again. "You've looked bad for months, like you were moving and talking but you weren't really there. If it had gone on much longer I think Molly was going to bring you here herself, the only reason she hadn't already was because every now and then you looked normal, like when you flew – also 'Potter's gone Potty' on the top of the _Daily Prophet_ isn't exactly the most desirable headline."

Harry smiled at her again. "I'm going to stay here with him. If you wouldn't mind, could you bring me some of the Auror stuff to read through and maybe some food?"

She nodded. "Of course, anything you want."

Before Hermione left she pulled Harry into a tight hug and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you're doing okay," she said. "And when you need a break I'll watch him if you like."

Harry nodded. He sat in St Mungo's with Malfoy for a whole week and never once asked Hermione to take over.

* * *

Hermione returned three times a day with food, new reading material and – once had Malfoy had regained consciousness – chess and Exploding snap. He wasn't sure how she managed it but it was as though she knew this was something he needed to do for himself and for the week he sat in that hospital he never once saw anyone but her – none of the Weasley's came to bring him home.

He learned on that first day that Malfoy had been put into a healing sleep; the mediwitch he spoke to gave him information freely. He wasn't sure if that was because he was 'the famous Harry Potter' or if it was because Draco Malfoy was an orphan now and he was as deficient in 'blood-relations-who-care' as Harry was.

_Orphan._ As intimately as Harry knew this word it somehow took on a whole new meaning when he was applying it to Draco Malfoy, a boy who – unlike Harry – had once known parents, once known family, it was profoundly tragic. Malfoy was as alone now as Harry was growing up with the Dursley's, he could only hope that Malfoy would have a better time of it than Harry did. He hoped that one day Malfoy would be able to make his own family as Harry had done with Hermione and the Weasleys; he knew that while they were no substitute to real family, it was most definitely the next best thing.

The mediwitch informed Harry that Draco hadn't been cursed or hexed but rather crushed and the healing sleep was allowing a cocktail of different potions to repair the extensive damage done to his body. In two days she would wake him up to check his progress.

Harry spent that time questioning the Auror posted at Malfoy's door. The limited information Harry was able to extract led him to understand that Malfoy had tried to flee when the Death Eaters arrived and during the chaos that ensued had been somehow crushed by a large section of the building – maybe the ceiling or a wall – that had come down. Ironically, as injured as he was, it was likely the only thing that saved him from suffering the same fate as his parents – the Auror believed that the Death Eaters thought him to be already dead.

When the time came for Malfoy to wake, Harry decided to wait outside. He thought Malfoy might die of shock if the first thing he clapped eyes on was Harry Potter at his bedside. After nearly an hour, the mediwitch came bustling out and smiled when she saw Harry waiting; she was an older lady and reminded him very much of Molly Weasley – she was his favourite so far and he hoped she would be assigned to Malfoy whenever she was on duty.

"You can go in now," she said to him kindly. "He's expecting you. I haven't told him about his parents, I thought he might want to hear it from a friend."

"Oh! Er-" Harry nodded once since he had no words for her and she left.

He sat for a minute before going in; he felt the enormity of it all settle uncomfortably on his shoulders.

_Tell Malfoy__ his parents were dead? _

Well, obviously he was aware someone was going to have to, but he never in a million years thought it would be him. For a moment he thought of chickening out and asking someone else to do it, but when he really considered the whole situation he knew no matter who told him, for Malfoy this was going to be a difficult thing to hear. More than difficult – it would change his whole life.

With a deep breath he resigned himself to his task and stepped into the room. Malfoy was sitting up, awake and staring out the window; it was a simulated outdoor scene since the floor they were on was underground.

Harry was the first to speak. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"My parents are dead," Malfoy stated.

"Yes, I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

"What are you doing here? Waited two days to gloat?"

Harry could hear the sob Malfoy was choking on as it sat in his throat wanting to come out.

"No," Harry stated simply.

Harry wasn't ready to explain why he was there – not that he knew – and Draco didn't care either. His parents were dead.

* * *

The next week found Harry and Malfoy playing game after game of chess or snap and in between Harry and Hermione organised the burial of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy following the strict instructions of their son. No one was invited to the funeral.

Malfoy seemed to prefer to avoid discussing anything of significance – including Harry's presence or either of their futures. He let Harry prattle on about his Auror training – which the raven-haired boy was starting to become excited about – for a little while but soon it too was on the list of topics-never-to-discuss.

Harry began to enjoy spending time with Malfoy despite his frequent spoilt-brat whining and extravagant requests of the hospital staff. He felt light and free and not at all as though he'd spent the last few days sleeping in a chair or playing chess with the most annoying wizard of all time. He soon came to realize that Malfoy was glad of his company as well which was why – Harry guessed – the blonde never pushed him for his reasons for staying.

Before long Malfoy was given the all clear and was set to be released from hospital care. The Ministry had organised a 'safe house' for Malfoy and he was to be escorted there as soon as he had signed out of the hospital. Harry was tense and worried all that morning because – if he'd learned anything during the war – he knew the increased dangers that relocating someone created. The Aurors and, to his disappointment, even Kingsley kept him in the dark about how they were moving Malfoy and where he was going – but worse still, Harry was not allowed to accompany him.

In the corridor Harry paced as Malfoy dressed in Harry's borrowed clothes. Malfoy had nothing else to take with him – not that it mattered – and he frowned in annoyance when he emerged and saw Harry's behaviour.

"Will you stop it?" he snapped. "You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," Harry apologized and he stopped pacing. "I just wish they'd let me come too."

"Why!?" Malfoy asked quickly. "I still don't even know what you were doing here all week!"

Malfoy sighed and held up his hand to stop Harry's response. "I don't want to know," he admitted. "I don't need you protecting me, Potter."

"Yes, you do. _They_-" he said, nodding his head towards the three Aurors waiting in the hall, "-aren't doing it properly."

"I can look after myself," Malfoy stated.

"You shouldn't have to."

"_Shut up,_ Potter. You should go home to your Weasley family and live your own life, okay?"

"Yeah, maybe," Harry reluctantly agreed. There really wasn't anything he could do anymore.

Malfoy nodded and began to make his way over to the Aurors waiting at the lifts.

"Hey Malfoy!" Harry called after him.

Malfoy turned.

"Just don't die, yeah?"

"I'll do my best," Malfoy said in a tone that Harry thought sounded _almost_ like a promise.

* * *

Two days later the sun rose on the day Draco Malfoy was to bury his parents and, although he loathed attending another funeral, Harry couldn't resist the lure of seeing the blonde again. The burial was set to happen just before dusk and Harry apparated to the edge of the cemetery about half and hour before to pick out a secluded spot that would allow him to watch Malfoy without being seen himself.

Harry noticed that Malfoy arrived unaccompanied and alert, his hand was shoved roughly into the same pocket that held his wand and he glared suspiciously at the grave diggers as they lowered the coffins into the ground. Malfoy didn't cry, he didn't let himself relax enough to allow that and Harry knew he couldn't stay away any longer with Malfoy so obviously unprotected and vulnerable.

He walked across the cemetery slowly and Malfoy looked up at him only once before lowering his head to watch his parents disappear into the dark soil. Harry realized then that Malfoy was expecting him; he knew he would come. As he stepped in close he saw Malfoy relax his shoulders and neck, he even leaned into Harry a little.

"I thought you could use some company," Harry whispered.

Malfoy didn't respond and it took Harry a few minutes to realize he was crying. There was no loud sobbing or shaking just silent tears falling gracefully down his cheeks. In the glimpse Harry allowed himself to take he saw for the first time that Malfoy didn't look unpleasant anymore – he looked human.

"Why are you here?" he asked softly. "You hated them."

Malfoy's tone of voice and his lingering gaze told Harry that the vulnerable boy next to him was asking about more than just his presence at the funeral. He was finally asking what Harry was doing at the hospital.

"I'm not here for them," Harry admitted.

"You hate _me_ too," Malfoy stated.

"No. I don't," Harry said for the first time. "I did, but I don't anymore."

Malfoy didn't ask for more information and they stood together quietly for a few minutes. The sun had long disappeared behind the trees but its glow still clung lightly to their surroundings.

"I meant what I said at your trial," Harry confessed. He didn't indicate which part he was referring to because he knew the blonde understood already. "It's all too sad to keep hating," Harry continued. "This war has changed us all, including you. It's taken from us _all._"

For the first time, Malfoy let a groan escape from his chest as the tears fell thickly from his misty grey eyes. He leaned into Harry unashamed and sobbed into the robes of the person he once hated more than anyone else.

They stood this way for a while until Harry became frighteningly aware of how dark it was and how exposed they were out in the open like this. He shifted his weight and Malfoy pulled away looking into Harry's eyes with desperate helplessness. Harry let his hands brush Malfoy's hairline and wipe away the last of his tears.

"Come on," he whispered. "Let's go."

Harry grasped Malfoy's hand in his, lacing their fingers together tightly and he apparated them both back to Grimmauld Place. Harry hadn't moved in yet, but he'd started to prepare the house for his permanent residence so it would do for the night. He prepared Malfoy dinner from the little food he had there and, while the meal was certainly lacking, the blonde never once complained. After they had both eaten Harry led Malfoy up to the one bedroom that he'd begun to clean so that he might sleep away some of his grief.

Harry showed Malfoy the bed and bathroom and where he would be sleeping – the couch – in case he needed anything during the night. Malfoy didn't respond to any of Harry's hospitality, he just sat himself on the edge of the bed and stared.

"Okay then, I'll leave you to rest," Harry said finally.

"Don't leave me," Malfoy mumbled, it was barely audible but Harry heard him.

He went over and sat next to the other boy as he began to cry again and wrapped one arm around his shoulders to pull him in close. Harry wasn't sure why he was so comfortable doing this but he was – perhaps it was because Malfoy needed it so much. Malfoy cried into his shoulder for only a few minutes before lifting his tear-stained face and pressing his lips to Harry's. Harry was surprised at first, but didn't dare pull away. He felt strangely tingly, like this is what he had wanted all along.

Upon realizing that Harry was tentatively kissing him back, Malfoy pushed into him harder; grabbing him with both hands pulling him close. He opened his mouth a little wider and tasted him.

Harry leaned back into Malfoy and pushed out his tongue to kiss him the way he used to kiss Ginny Weasley and to his delight Malfoy accepted. Harry's stomach was doing flip-flops and he was kissing this blonde deity with vigor. He had never felt this way kissing anyone before – not even Ginny when he thought he loved her.

Malfoy began to pull away too soon and his body felt heavy against Harry's. "What did you do to me?" he asked.

For a moment Harry thought he meant the kiss, but relaxed as he noticed Malfoy's eyelids drooping and how much trouble he was having holding himself up. "I spiked your drink with Dreamless Sleep potion at dinner," Harry confessed, smiling at its effects.

He knew that his kiss with Malfoy needed to stop before they both went too far; the other boy was vulnerable, hurting and emotional. Harry needed to be the level-headed one and stop it until they could both think clearly.

Harry didn't sleep on the couch; he slept in his bed with Malfoy, holding him tightly all night as they slept. They both slept deeply and peacefully that night but before he succumbed, Harry was pleased to note that Draco Malfoy didn't look unpleasant at all lying there next to him.

* * *

In the morning Harry blearily opened his eyes to find himself rested but completely alone. Confused and slightly upset, he sat up to glance around the room – no Malfoy.

On the pillow next to him, Harry found a note. It said:

_Harry,_

_I'm leaving. __I'm not safe here anymore. _

_Thanks for everything._

_I'm sorry._

_Draco._

Harry read the note again and sighed. Why did this hurt so much?

**

* * *

**

Fast forward

**… **_(Same day as in Chapter 1)_

It was late that night and Harry sat at his personal study desk in his London flat – he had done up and sold Grimmauld Place several years ago and had bought himself a more modern bachelor pad in London, appropriately concealed and protected, of course.

He had already been to bed once that night, but after tossing and turning and staring at his ceiling for over an hour, he gave up. When he tried to recall the events of that confusing day, they seemed to blend together until he wasn't even certain what was real and what wasn't. The only part of that day he remembered clearly was his time with Draco; he remembered what Malfoy had told him about where he'd been, he remembered how he looked and, annoyingly, he also remembered how his heart and stomach had done little involuntary flops, especially later once he'd allowed himself to remember the last time he'd seen the ex-Slytherin all those years ago.

Harry, still sitting at his desk, glanced again at the folded piece of parchment he held in his hands. He wasn't sure why he'd kept this or why once or twice a year – when his thoughts lingered too long on the pale face and piercing grey eyes of his past – he pulled it out to read it. No, not to read it – he already knew the words – to gaze at the writing, to smell the parchment, to think of his old enemy and wonder where he was and what he was doing.

He unfolded the parchment and let his eyes skim over the lettering. He read the note properly this time – word for word – as though he hoped now had seen Malfoy again, talked to him; this note would reveal something new.

_Harry,_

_I'm leaving. I'm not safe here anymore. _

_Thanks for everything._

_I'm sorry._

_Draco._

It didn't. He was still plagued with questions, still confused.

He still didn't understand why Malfoy had left him there to wake up alone that morning. But what else did he expect really – what else did he think would happen? He wasn't sure what it was he wanted from Malfoy, he just knew he wanted more. More of something…

* * *

Okay, ta-daaa! I'm taking a poll so you must review…

Show of hands who thinks the current title to this fic is crap and it needs to be changed…

Suggestions?

Also what do you think of the chapter? I have no idea where this is going – I have the next chapter planned but not a whole heap after that so encouragement is required and maybe suggestions too…

Thanks for reading

xo


	3. What do I care?

UPDATED: Hello all! Needless to say this weekend I polished off my bottle of vodka and that (combined with my re-reading some of my favourite drunk fanfic scenes from other authors) make me realise just how much drunk people dont talk like retarded 2 year olds. They talk normally most of the time, its just the content and general loss of balance and coordination that makes one think 'retarded 2 year old'. Like the dude I had to drive home 3 weeks ago that kept saying "I live on Wattle St! I loooooove Wattle st!" as though I'd brought up the street he lived in by pure coincidence and not because I was arguing with my friend in the back seat about where Wattle St was in relation to where we were since the guy we were dropping of was barely conscious let alone able to direct us to his house. I'm still bitter if you can't tell, he nearly puked in my car! As I said - retarded 2 year old...

ANYWAY... back to the point! I can no longer bear the ridiculous drunk baby talk in this chapter so I have fixed it up! Hope you all approve...

Also, as I mentioned before I've decided to change the name of this fic but I wanted to give you all some warning so you know its still the same story. I had to come up with this all on my own so its most probably still going to be crap. As I seem to lack any real original creativity when it comes to titles I naturally turned to famous quotes and found one that I think suits this story. It goes:

The fairest action of our human life  
Is scorning to revenge an injury;  
For who forgives without a further strife,  
His adversary's heart to him doth tie:  
And 'tis a firmer conquest, truly said,  
To win the heart than overthrow the head.  
- Lady Elizabeth Carew (1590)

And in light of that when I post Chapter 4 I will change the title to 'To win the heart'... what do we all think?

Make sure you review and tell me...

* * *

Chapter 3: What do I care?

Draco Malfoy had been annoyingly distracted since Harry Potter had barged in on his life again, his thoughts would not behave themselves, preferring to wander off on their own to linger on the person Draco wished _least _to think about. He was, at this moment, lounging comfortably in his favourite chair sipping on a glass of scotch on the rocks and _not _– absolutely _not _– thinking of _anyone_ with green eyes **or** black hair. Nope, definitely not.

It was just after 11pm and the Late News was on in the background, he was pretending to watch it – pretending to whom, he wasn't sure. The news usually captured his attention from beginning to end – it was his one connection to his old life. He was usually able to read between the lines of 'unusual occurrences' and gain some perspective on life outside his muggle existence.

It had been nearly a decade since he had lived as a wizard and as the years went on it never got easier. He learned to live without magic after a few years and even began to appreciate the incredible lifestyle muggles had created for themselves, but he still felt like he was missing an arm without his wand. Sometimes, usually late at night or early in the morning when he was in that unfocused state halfway between being sleep and awake, he thought he felt his magic stir inside him, rumbling his insides trying to get out, but when he concentrated again he was always mistaken.

It had been so long since he had experienced anything magical that he had to hear the tapping at the window three times before he recognized it; he had an owl. For an instant his insides froze, there was only one wizard who knew he was here and he scolded his thoughts for knowing instantly who had sent him a letter; Harry Potter.

The bird was beautiful – smaller than his old Eagle Owl, about the size of a falcon, its beak and eyes were a startling yellow and its feathers so contrasting in colour with a snow white face but a chocolate brown back flecked with white. She was friendly too, perching lightly on Draco's outstretched arm carefully gripping his clothes for balance rather than his flesh. Draco stared at her in awe, overwhelmed at her presence as he felt nostalgia tug at his heart.

"Hello there," he cooed to her. "Is that for me?"

She hooted and nipped at a loose strand of hair near his ear. Draco smiled and reached over to untie his letter from her leg.

"I don't have any owl treats for you," he confessed to the bird. "I don't usually need them, but I do have oats and bran cereal if you're interested. Are you hungry then, pretty girl?"

She hooted again appreciatively and Draco carried her through to his kitchen and perched her on the back of one of his dining room chairs. After placing a small bowl filled with cereal on the table for her, he retreated back to his lounge room to open Potter's letter.

It said:

_Malfoy,_

_I would like to see you again on Saturday at Callum's birthday, but not if it would make you uncomfortable. If you really don't want me there tell me and I won't go. Otherwise forward me the details._

_Hope to see you Saturday,_

_Harry._

Draco's stomach flopped without his permission and he frowned at it; _stupid stomach doesn't know what it's talking about._ He read the letter again and sighed, wondering which side of the argument he'd been having with himself the last few days was going to win out – _should I see Harry Potter again?_ His head said 'absolutely not, it would be a bad, bad idea', but his heart said 'yes definitely, satisfy this niggling urge I'm giving you'.

Head or heart?

Draco had been raised a 'head' person, emotions were a weakness to be exploited, but if he listened to his head then he wouldn't get to see Harry again and that wasn't the result he wanted.

He recalled clearly the day he had left Harry sleeping alone in that warm bed, he had ignored his heart that day and listened to his head and this is where he had ended up. He wasn't dead and neither was Harry… but he was a _muggle._

The truth was he was unhappy and homesick. Draco suddenly felt short of breath as he had an epiphany; this was his chance. Harry was offering him a way back to his old life, this letter in his hands right now was possibly the solution to his problems, all he had to do was say yes.

_Just say yes. _

But what were the consequences? Exposure to wizarding life and his eventual murder – possibly Harry's too? Draco sighed again. He was so torn between what he should do and what he wanted to do and the circles he was running in his head were confusing him more and more.

He loved his life here, didn't he? He loved his friends, he had a successful business, and casual sex with Todd, the bartender at his favourite club, whenever he wanted it. What's not to love?

Harry's last words had been ringing in his ears and twisting his stomach randomly since he'd heard them. 'Are you happy?' _What kind of question is that!? Asshole._ That's what he was, an asshole! Carelessly forcing his way back into Draco's life, buzzing constantly in his thoughts and now – _now what!?_ – offering him a link back to his old life? What else did he expect? That they would pick up where they left off – kissing frantically in his bed?

_I don't think so._

A sharp, impatient hoot near his ear snapped him from his thoughts.

"Sorry, girl," Draco apologized to the owl now sitting on the back of his chair. He still didn't know what he wanted to do, but he was sure he wasn't ready to close this window just yet.

And so he replied to Harry's letter, choosing his words carefully. He wrote:

_Come. I don't care._

_Saturday 9pm Buzz Club on Waymouth St._

He paused at the end of the short note trying to decide what name to use to sign off; Draco, Malfoy, or Leo? Who was he now? 'Leo' to everyone but Harry, but to Harry…_what?_ Frustrated with himself for overanalyzing it, he gave up; instead leaving the letter unsigned.

He tied the letter to Harry's beautiful owl and patted her one last time before throwing her back into the night's sky.

It was past midnight and the news was over. Time for bed.

* * *

Harry had been standing in front of his full length mirror for 10 minutes frowning at himself; it was 6 o'clock. He felt uneasy.

The clothes he wore were new, he'd been out shopping that morning and now he was looking sharp in a new pair of black muggle dress pants and a dark green muggle button up shirt and black jacket. His hair was still untamed, but with some practice he'd managed to mold it into 'sexy untamed' rather than 'homeless untamed'. He looked good but still felt uneasy.

He was showered, shaved and smelling fantastic. He still had 3 hours before he needed to be there, by all rights he shouldn't even be thinking about having a shower for another hour at least, but here he was 3 hours early and already dressed. He sighed at his reflection.

_What's wrong with me?_ he wondered.

Okay, so he was about to go out drinking and dancing with the first boy he ever kissed, a boy he'd been obsessed with since childhood, someone he would be very, very glad to go home with tonight. But is this the right thing?

Malfoy has managed to create a new life for himself, one without magic, one where he is safe. But how safe would he be if Harry drags him back into his old life? Probably not very, but Harry would be there to protect him.

"Harry!" someone called to him from his lounge room.

He recognized Hermione's voice instantly; he was expecting her. Hermione was his confidant, she was the only one who knew everything about his feelings for Malfoy – the only one he'd told about their kiss, the first to know he was gay and the only one (besides the unofficial report he gave Kingsley) who knew he'd run into Malfoy again. She had agreed to come over before his evening with Malfoy.

"In here!" he called back to her from the bedroom.

"Me-yow!" Hermione teased him. "Someone is dressed to impress, no?"

"No!" Harry blushed and she raised her eyebrows at him as if to say 'suuuuure you aren't…' "Okay, fine! Yes, I want to look good! I want him to want me… Happy!?"

Hermione laughed. "Well, you've been in love with him since forever so yes I'm happy for you, but I'm still worried he comes with too much-" Hermione paused, searching for the right word, "-_baggage?_"

"And I don't?" Harry retorted.

"Okay, maybe baggage isn't the right word," Hermione suggested. "But you know what I'm getting at – there's a lot of history and even _you_ have to admit that most of it is bad."

Harry sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. "Hermione," Harry said quietly, "what if I'm doing the wrong thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Tonight, maybe I shouldn't go. He's safe there and he says he's happy," Harry told her sadly. "And what am I if not the biggest reminder of the past he's spent 10 years running away from?"

"Harry, I'm not sure there's anybody who's successfully run away from their past, even if it doesn't ever catch up with them in such a physical way as you have with Malfoy. Your past is what makes you who you are," Hermione explained. "I have no doubt you would be a different person now had you never lost your parents, had you grown up with wizards and never had to fight Voldemort. The mistakes Malfoy is running from are the same ones that make him who he is now."

"But maybe I'm just a painful reminder he doesn't need," Harry suggested. "If I was Malfoy I'd want to forget too. Hell, I'm me and I want to forget!"

"But you don't! You won't ever forget because as hard as it is to remember the bad things you know how important it is!" Hermione reminded him.

"What do you mean?"

"We _all_ want to forget the really shit parts, but what does it mean if we do? Do we forget the people who died, what they gave us and how much we loved them just so it doesn't hurt anymore? If nothing else, this war taught us what is really important in life and to appreciate what we have. By running away and trying to forget Malfoy may never come to terms with the decisions he made and never forgive himself for them. He is a wizard from a long line of wizards! He's living a lie, don't you think? Shouldn't he be reminded of who he is?"

"You think he's living a lie?" Harry pondered.

"Don't you?"

Harry paused to think for a moment. "Maybe…" he confessed finally.

"I never spent that much time with him but I do believe he was dragged into something he knew nothing about and, considering the life he's living now, I believe he regrets it. Living as a muggle for someone like _Malfoy_ – it almost seems like he's punishing himself," Hermione said, talking to herself as much as Harry.

"So, you think Malfoy needs to come back and face his past?" Harry concluded. "To forgive himself?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure. I'm only going off what you said about him," she admitted. "Either way, I don't think running away is healthy, he'll have to face up to it sometime and," she smiled at him, "he may as well have you help him do it."

Harry felt his insides clench. He so wanted this; wanted Malfoy, wanted to be happy, to make Malfoy happy. But he also felt like it was a little bit wrong intruding this way – Malfoy was still being hunted after all and if he wanted to hide Harry shouldn't expose him. He told this to Hermione.

"Look, if you don't want to go, don't go," she said firmly and slightly frustrated at his constant excuses. "But the fact is you gave Malfoy an out already – a chance to tell you to stay away – he didn't take it."

"Harry! 'Mione!" Harry heard Ron calling from his lounge room fireplace, interrupting their conversation – although Harry had the feeling it was probably over anyway.

Harry and Hermione made their way to the fireplace to see Ron's face burning in the embers from his Floo call. "Hey Honey," Ron greeted Hermione.

"Hi Babycakes," Harry teased.

Hermione laughed. "Is everything alright?" she asker her husband.

"Yeah, Rosie is fine, just hungry. Should I put dinner on now? How much longer are you two going to be?"

"Is Rosie hungry, Ron? Or are you?" Harry teased again.

"Both," Ron admitted sheepishly. "Looking good, Harry! Hermione has good taste doesn't she?"

"Very," Harry agreed without hesitation.

"I'll come home now Babe, just give me 5 minutes," Hermione interrupted.

Ron nodded and was gone, but not before wishing Harry luck on his date.

"Date?" Harry asked Hermione once they were alone.

Hermione blushed. "I told him you had a date with a muggle and wanted my help choosing what to wear. He would have wanted to come otherwise," she told him. "Look, I love you but I hate hiding this from him… he knows I know something he doesn't – if this works out with Malfoy, you have to tell him."

"I will and don't worry, it's Malfoy, this won't go anywhere, he'll make sure of that!" Harry stated with certainty; although he was going to do his damnedest to convince Malfoy they had something.

* * *

Harry arrived at Buzz – the club at which Callum was celebrating his birthday – exhilarated; he was a nobody again and for a few precious hours he could escape being 'Harry Potter' who he never seemed to find peace being. He had decided to live the entire evening as a muggle, including taking a cab to the club rather that apparating, staring out of the car window as the lights and debauchery of London on a Saturday night sped by him sent a familiar thrill zinging through his limbs. He thanked the cabbie and stepped out onto the pavement in front of the club.

"I'm here for Callum Hughes' birthday," Harry informed the bouncer.

"Name," he asked indifferently.

"Harry Potter."

"Go in," the bouncer, a tall, well-built and rather scary-looking man, instructed him.

Harry did.

The club was stunningly designed – it had a red, white and black colour scheme – it was dark with black lights that made the white stools glow. The bar ran the length of the room with red lighting underneath which almost made it look like it was bleeding. Harry didn't recognize anyone which wasn't a surprise – after all he _was_ early – so he ordered a drink (his usual muggle beverage – Bourbon and Coke) and began to flirt with the bartender who didn't seem to object much.

Another two Bourbons later it was about half past 9 and Harry had almost convinced Sam-the-Bartender to take a five minute break to dance with him when Draco Malfoy – sorry, _Leo Black_ – strolled into the club, fashionably late, with Callum on his arm.

"Callum Hughes!" Harry called over the music. "Happy Birthday!" He strolled over to meet Callum and Draco and shook Callum's hand again.

"How old are you now Callum?" Harry asked.

"Too old," Callum replied. "I'm 29, this is my last precious year before I turn 30."

"You sad, sad man," Draco teased his friend.

"Yes," Callum agreed. "Now _shut up Swine_ and buy me a drink!"

"I'm sorry," Draco replied casually, still teasing, "isn't that supposed to be _shut up Boss_?"

He didn't wait for Callum's reply, instead casually swaggering up to the bar to order a Scotch for himself and the most girlish cocktail they had for Callum (a pink Strawberry Daquiri with an umbrella, two straws and a decorative strawberry on the top of the glass).

"Thanks," Callum cringed. "If I don't pick up _a girl_ tonight I'm holding you entirely responsible."

"Indeed. And should that happen it wouldn't have anything to do with your extreme lack of charisma, would it?" Draco retorted.

"Absolutely not," Callum said, looking mock offended. "Look at me Baby, I don't _need_ charisma! I'm pure _sex_!"

Harry laughed loudly at their banter. He wasn't sure if it was his three Bourbons but Harry felt completely relaxed and not at all as though he was intruding on the private joking of best friends. After this Harry was pulled around the now full club by Callum – despite a scowling Draco – and introduced to the entire room of people; he forgot their names immediately and never spoke to most of them again.

One hour and another four Bourbons later, Harry hadn't spoken to Draco at all – in fact, he had the distinct feeling the blonde had been watching him the whole night, but had managed to avoid him completely. Harry, after another failed attempt to get within 5 metres of his target, decided to take another approach and try to make Draco jealous – jealous enough to claim Harry for himself.

Harry pulled out his wallet and headed back to the bar. "You still owe me that dance, Sam-the-Bartender," Harry announced. "I want two shots of Bourbon – one for me and one for you – and a glass of coke to chase."

Sam smiled shyly and nodded and Harry handed over his money. "Then you will be taking five minutes to dance with me," he continued.

Sam nodded again. They both downed their shots and took two mouthfuls of Coke before Harry pulled Sam out on to the dance floor. They danced close and touched each other often; Harry ran his hand affectionately down the length of Sam's arm when the songs changed over, then they continued to grind at each other in time to the music beat. At the close of the song Sam announced that he had to return to the bar and he dropped a swift, but deep kiss on Harry's lips. Harry pushed his way off the dance floor to find the toilets – all that Bourbon was catching up with him – only to run into Draco half way there.

"What was that disgusting display?" Draco scowled at Harry.

Harry smiled. _He's jealous,_ he thought to himself.

"I have half a mind to have that young man fired if he behaves like that. Is he a bar bitch or a call boy?" Draco continued, when Harry didn't respond.

"Now, now Draco," Harry tsk-ed. "I'm here only for you, but when you ignore me like that – well, what's a man to do?" he continued, teasing the blonde.

Draco growled and stalked away in frustration.

On his way back from the bathroom Harry got pulled aside by Callum.

"Birthday boy!" he greeted him. Harry was feeling happy and over-tipsy.

"Step into my office there Son," Callum replied, leading Harry to a private booth. He had another Bourbon waiting for him.

Harry smiled and took a sip. He was expecting this; the 'What was Leo like before I met him?' quiz. He was loose from the alcohol and would have to watch his tongue.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong," Callum began, "but there is some serious sexual tension between you and Leo, isn't there?"

Harry laughed. He wasn't really sure what was happening but he couldn't deny the tension, you could slice the air between him and Draco with a knife it was so thick. "Yeah, maybe," he admitted. "We kissed, once upon a time."

Callum's mouth dropped open in surprise, but Harry could still clearly see his grin. "You guys kissed!? Really? Why didn't it work out?" he asked genuinely interested.

"He left the next day and never came back," Harry explained. "I don't think it meant anything anyway. I didn't even know he was completely gay until you asked if I was his new man."

Callum rolled his eyes at Harry. "Um, _you kissed_, isn't that a pretty big hint!?"

"It happened under unusual circumstances," Harry said, not completely sure how much to tell Callum or even what to say.

"Was he high or something?"

"No, nothing like that," Harry said quickly, hoping he hadn't just started a new office rumour about Draco having a substance abuse problems; had Harry's mind not been so lost in his past, he would have laughed at the thought. "How much has he told you about his past?" Harry asked, hoping to get some guidelines for how much to divulge.

"Practically nothing," Callum replied. "All I know is that he's an only child and his parents are dead. I asked him about it once but he quickly shut me down."

"I'm not surprised," Harry said sadly. "Leo made some bad decisions that got some people hurt. He wasn't directly responsible or anything – let's just say he fell in with the wrong crowd. He's pretty ashamed, although he'd never admit that to anyone, especially me. I think that's why he left, to make a new life for himself, be a new person. If he'd stayed his past would have dictated his future; where we are from, people aren't that understanding of him."

Callum nodded solemnly.

"Can you maybe understand why he doesn't want to talk about it?" Harry prompted.

"Yeah, sounds like you didn't think he was so bad though," Callum suggested lightly, quickly changing the mood of the conversation by wiggling his eyebrows.

"It was _one kiss_!" Harry laughed shortly, trying to defend himself. "We were 17 and his parents had just died. I didn't even know I was gay at that point – I guess you could say he enlightened me with that kiss." Harry smiled at Callum sheepishly.

"That good, eh?" Callum laughed.

"It wouldn't have gone anywhere anyway," Harry admitted sadly. "What with our past and everything…" his sentence trailed off and he sat in an almost mourning silence with Callum. Mourning what? – he wasn't sure… maybe, their potentially epic relationship that will never got off the ground.

The conversation settled into a comfortable alcohol induced silence and both men got lost in their thoughts. Harry began to worry that he had said too much to Callum and he was sure Draco wouldn't be happy about it.

"Hey, I've probably said things I shouldn't," Harry said worriedly. "If Leo wants to tell you more that's up to him but don't bug him about it. Trust me when I say these things are best left buried. You can tell him I said he made some bad decisions in his past and ask him about that but nothing else. Okay?"

Callum sighed. "Yeah alright," he agreed. "Can I tell him you said you guys kissed? See if there's going to be a repeat performance?" Callum teased wiggling his eyebrows again; it was fast becoming his signature move.

"I dunno," Harry replied, blushing noticeably even under the red lights in the club. "I don't even know if he remembers it. He had just buried his parents like hours before – he was exhausted and grieving when it happened and then he was gone, we never got to – I dunno – talk about anything."

"You care about him don't you?" Callum asked softly.

"I think he needs to come home," Harry admitted the Bourbon flowing his confessions with a freedom he wouldn't have normally allowed. "He can't hide forever – I mean I'm the proof aren't I? Things are catching up with him and I think he knows it too, that's why he was so against me coming tonight."

"Yeah," Callum agreed loosely. "But if these things are best left buried like you say, then why are you here stirring them up?"

"I've asked myself that a thousand times," Harry confessed. "I probably shouldn't be here. Leo and I were school rivals," Harry explained. "We _hated_ each other, but in a weird way our hatred sort of bordered on obsession. When it came to the other, neither of us could just leave it alone, you know? I can't remember a single time when we just walked past each other without some sort of comment. I _want _to leave him in peace – believe me – I just _can't_,I've never been able to when it came to him."

Callum laughed and looked at Harry knowingly – Harry found it unnerving. "Wow," he teased. "I'm surprised you didn't show up in Australia then!"

"If I had known he was there I probably would have," Harry confessed, not realizing his words were true until he said them.

Callum just smiled and slid himself out of the booth. "Alright, let's get this show on the road!" he announced to Harry pulling him up.

Callum dragged Harry over to Draco who was at the bar smiling at chatting to a pretty young brunette girl in her early twenties.

"Leo! It's _my_ birthday and I demand tequila!" Callum ordered.

Draco laughed at his friend's request and was quick to oblige, ordering four tequila shots. Sam served them up with four slices of lemon, a salt shaker, a folded piece of paper and a wink to Harry. Draco shot Sam a glare and snatched the paper before Harry could; he unfolded it to read the note and scowled again before shoving it deep into his pocket.

"You won't be needing that," Draco told Harry.

"Hey! What if that was his phone number!?" Harry whined.

"I _said_, you won't be needing that, Potter," Draco stated again.

Harry smiled and shrugged. He tried to be cool and straight faced but he couldn't help it; Draco had as good as said he would be taking Harry home tonight. He grinned like an idiot.

Callum, who had overheard their exchange of words, smiled too. "Right Julie, Sweetheart, you're with me. Take the lemon and show me some cleavage!" he requested.

Julie laughed but did as he asked. She took the lemon into her mouth, holding the flesh outwards and then pulled the neck of her blouse down to reveal her milky white breasts. Harry laughed appreciatively as he watched Callum lick the top of her breast and sprinkle salt over it. Callum grinned at Julie before licking her boob again to taste the salt, taking his shot and pulling the curvy brunette close to suck the lemon from her mouth.

"Mmm, yum," he declared. "Your turn, Darling," he addressed Julie as he unbuttoned his shirt and held a second slice of lemon gently between his teeth.

Harry watch again as Julie repeated the process on Callum, but she wasn't nearly as provocative with him as he was with her. Harry was surprised at the clearly defined muscles hiding underneath Callum's shirt and he felt his breath catch before forcefully removing his eyes from the delectable sight; he felt uncomfortable thinking of Callum sexually especially after the conversation they'd just had.

_Bur g__od he's gorgeous,_ Harry thought, almost wishing he had got to lick Callum like Julie had.

"Now it's your turn Lads," Callum declared, flicking his eyes between Harry and Draco.

Harry blushed. He hadn't even thought about it but if he had he would have realized Callum expected him to do body shots with Draco and he wouldn't have spent any time wishing he was Julie. He was about to politely decline thinking Draco wouldn't want it when he noticed the blonde unbuttoning his shirt.

"You first then, Potter," Draco instructed him placing his lemon between his teeth.

Harry nodded bashfully and awkwardly tried to decide where to lick on Draco's chest; his shirt hung open and Harry had a full view of the chest he'd fantasized about on more than one occasion and he had to say – um, wow! Draco had a lot of body pride if he remembered correctly and that was one thing that hadn't changed; _the boy worked out!_

He hadn't realized he was staring until Draco leaned into his ear to whisper, "I taste even better than I look, now get on with it."

Harry blushed furiously as Draco replaced the lemon and out of the corner of his eye he could see Callum stifling a laugh. He leaned in and licked Draco's collarbone, nipping it just a little so Draco knew he was _definitely_ interested in more later on, and sprinkled on the salt. He glanced into Draco's eyes quickly before leaning in again to lick off the salt. He took the shot which was foul and leaned in close to suck the lemon to remove the burn of the tequila. His heart was thumping in his chest at being so close to kissing Draco again, he let one hand rest on Draco's waist and the other on his shoulder; he pressed up as close as he dared.

Overall the combined sensations had a pleasant after-taste. "Wow," Harry said, surprised. "That's actually nice at the end of it."

"Idiot," Draco muttered. "Come on, your turn," Draco stated, indicating to Harry's still-buttoned shirt.

Harry obliged. He knew he looked good too; he still played Quidditch socially with some of his friends at the Ministry, there were a few amateur teams around that had their own little competition – Harry's team was one of the best and it kept him fit. Draco smirked, admiring Harry's physique, but wasted no time in drawing Harry close to him and tilting Harry's head to the side. Draco sucked on the nook between Harry's neck and shoulder before dusting the area with salt; he licked up the salt, took his shot and sucked quickly on the lemon in Harry's mouth but didn't linger. Instead, he spat out the remains of the lemon rind and brushed his lips lightly against Harry's. Harry felt himself tremble at the contact which was earth-moving even if it was fleeting.

"Let's dance, Hero," Draco smirked.

As Draco grabbed Harry's hand to pull him to the dance floor, he shot Sam-the-Bartender haughty smirk as if to mark Harry as his own, then they lost themselves in the crowd.

As they began to dance, Harry felt the tequila shot take effect as he began to lose control and he found himself enter an alcohol induced haze; the noise, the lights, the people all blurred together in front of his eyes and all five of his senses seemed to roll into one experience. The only thing he was able to separate was Draco; the feel of his arms around his neck as they moved together, he could feel with heightened ability Draco's chest on his with their shirts still open and their skin burning at they rubbed together. He felt Draco's leg slip between his own and rub erotically at his hard on – which Draco seemed pleased to find as he nudged his own on Harry's hip. Harry enjoyed this movement a little too much and if he didn't stop now he would be forced to have Draco right here and now on the dance floor.

Harry pulled away and turned his back to Draco's chest; he grabbed the blonde's arms and wrapped them around his waist as they continued to move to the music. He dropped his head back on to Draco's shoulder and reveled in the feeling of their bodies up against each other.

_This isn't going to last much longer,_ Harry thought. _I'm going to need to take Draco home with me and soon!_

He was barely finished with this thought when he felt it, the sting in his arm calling him back to reality – calling him back to work; an emergency.

_No!_ Harry thought. _Not now!_

It was possibly the most inconvenient time for Kingsley to call him back, not only was he about an hour away from fucking the person who had starred in the majority of his sexual fantasies these last 10 years, he was also drunk out of his mind!

Harry groaned in complaint but Draco must have mistaken it for pleasure as he grabbed Harry's hips with his hands to pull Harry's butt in closer to his groin.

"Mmm, Dray-co," Harry moaned. "I can't."

Draco stopped and turned Harry to face him; he looking confused and angry. "It's _Leo_, Idiot. And what do you mean you can't!? You've been flirting me all night!"

The alcohol Harry had consumed that night wrapped around his mind like a blanket and between the persistent sting in his arm and the impossible task of explaining – while drunk – that Harry did want Draco, that he wasn't a big flirting tease that couldn't see it through, he just had one of those annoying jobs where even when he _wasn't_ on call, he was on call. Harry's brow creased in concentration as he mentally reached out for words he knew were locked away in his sober-vocabulary but were never available when he was drunk.

"Mm sorry," he slurred. "Work, you know? S'emergency."

Draco, who was as drunk as Harry, couldn't hide his emotions in this state and he let his head droop in disappointment as his shoulders slumped to demonstrate the hurt he felt at Harry's rejection and even Harry noticed. "I'm sorry," the dark haired young man pleaded again. "I don't wanna go, just work – emergency. Prolly Carrows, eh?" Harry said half joking with Draco. "You could come home if I get 'em."

Draco's eyes widened and he pulled Harry roughly from the crowd of sweaty people dancing and grating together. "No, no, no, no, no," Draco said, "Stay."

"Can't, Dray-" Harry replied, wincing as the stinging began to throb. "They need me."

"You're too drunk for this shit. Let someone else," Draco pleaded. "You're not Superman, Harry. _You're stupid_. You'll die."

Harry smiled at Draco's matter-of-fact statement about his lack of intellegence.

"I'm going," Harry stated. "Maybe you should gimme goodbye kiss, case I don't come back," he teased.

Draco leaned in and touched his mouth to Harry's lightly. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and pulled him in close to deepen the kiss.

I wish I could tell you it was soft and tender or hard and passionate, but in reality it was one of those truly disgusting drunk kisses with too much saliva and too much tongue – it seemed the tequila had affected both boys rather dramatically, pushing them from happily drunk to totally smashed.

Harry pulled away from Draco and disappeared out the door and into the night before Draco even realized he was gone.

* * *

Okay, so review - tell me what you think of the chapter, what you think of the title change and also where this story should go because I have still planned very little - mostly I have adorable Harry/Draco scenes running around in my head that I would like to include in some way but no real plot line...

Dreaming xo


	4. You total asshole!

Okay people! Here it is. This story now has a new name (hopefully its a better onw) and still no planned plot, aren't I clever!! All ideas are appreciated and possibly necessary lol! I included a bit of action in this chapter (no not that sort of action you dirty minded people!) and its a first for me so comments on how that went are most definitely encouraged - its pretty tame as far as catching a death eater goes but for my first i think its okay.

Anyway other than that, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4: You total Asshole…

The walls of the corridor Harry was stumbling down seemed to bend and sway as he'd never seen them do before. It was dark for the most part and he couldn't see very well particularly in this state of drunkenness but it was okay because he was almost there.

_Just get to Kingsley__,_ he told himself again as he walked awkwardly to his boss' office.

Smack! Harry's shoulder slammed into the wall again, he had bounced from one wall to the other and back again for the entire length of the corridor, but this time he managed to tumble forward crashing rather clumsily to the floor. Harry was unsure about what had happened, being largely unaware of his fall, he just remembered walking before finding himself face first in the carpet.

_Oh, comfortable,_ he thought. _Might just stay here a while…_

Not a bad place to be really, it was preferable to walking since the room seemed to be moving less from this angle and he didn't have to concentrate so hard on the whole 'one foot in front of the other' thing. In his experience, drunkenness tended to limit the room in one's head allowing for only one or two thoughts at a time; now that walking was finished Harry was able to truly appreciate the extreme irritation of this Summons he was receiving. The aching in his arm was beginning to get annoying like a mosquito you know is biting you repeatedly but you just can't catch.

As he breathed deeply trying to will away the churning he felt in his stomach as he tried not to vomit, he heard familiar voices echoing down the corridor. It was his best friend and his boss.

"I'm not sure where he is Kings," Ron confessed. "He had a date tonight in the muggle world. There's every chance he didn't go back to his own place." Ron flushed pink at his words and the suggestion that went along with them; Kingsley didn't seem fazed.

"I'm always telling Bradford we need to look into muggle forms of communication specifically for this reason," Kingsley huffed. "Why wouldn't he answer his Summons?"

"I'm not sure," Ron replied his voice laced with worry. "Should we activate the Tracer?"

Each Auror was now branded with the Ministry version of Voldemort's Dark Mark; it was an easily vanished tattoo that worked as a form of identification to others of their position and rank, as well as a summons and a tracker. Although this imprint was highly controversial – many complaining about an invasion of privacy – once the Ministry had been cleaned out of its corrupt workers and many departments revamped (which Hermione, Ron and Harry had all had extensive input in) neither Harry, Ron nor many of the others had any issues receiving this brand as they all understood the unfortunate necessity of it in their line of work.

"You may have to head out without him Weasley," Kingsley suggested. "If he doesn't turn up in an hour I'll activate the Tracer."

"He won't like me going without him Kings," Ron reminded him.

"Yes, well is that my fault or his?"

Harry lay motionless in the hall listening to (but not really understanding) Ron and Kingsley's conversation and wondering how best to alert them of his presence. He briefly considered calling out to them, but his stomach was still churning about and he was sure one good shout would undo all the work he'd done trying to suppress his urge to vomit.

_Ron! _he called out with his mind. _I'm in the hallway, come turn my arm off! _

Nothing. Not that he expected it to work, it's just with magic – well, you never know do you? He'd had more surprising things than that work for him.

With another deep breath he realized he had only one choice left; get up. He rolled on to his stomach and pushed himself up on to his hands and knees – walking upright was out of the question. He groaned as the movement seemed to slosh the contents of his tummy around, but he swallowed and held it down.

_One – Two – Three – Four. _Harry counted each of his movements as he crawled forwards towards the light of Kingsley's doorway. _Five – Six – Seven – Eight. _

Harry had his head tucked down between his shoulders as he crept, he had better things to concentrate on (like not falling over and not throwing up) than which direction he was moving in, besides how hard was it to go straight?

Well, as it turns out, when you're drunk – very hard…

Instead of crawling straight down the hall as he anticipated Harry managed to veer off diagonally and crawl headlong into the base of the hat stand that stood at the front desk of Kingsley's receptionist; hats and coats were left with Wendy when people visited the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry was immediately frustrated at this intrusion on his progress to Kingsley's office and lashed out at the hat stand before thinking about where he was or what he was swiping at, sending the stand toppling across the corridor where it smashed clean through the window of Jeffery Sanders' office.

Harry looked up in surprise at the sound of shattering glass to find tiny pieces of the window sparkling all along the corridor, he took in the scene with wide, disbelieving eyes; _damn, he was going to be in so much trouble_. Acting on the first thought that entered his head – _clean it up and no one will know_ –he perched on his knees using his bare hands to try and scrape the shards of glass together into a pile, cutting his hands to ribbons as he worked; this is how Ron and Kingsley found him.

"Harry!" Ron cried as soon as he recognized the man.

Harry looked up at the sound of his name relieved to see Ron but terrified to find Kingsley right behind him. He wished he could have said it wasn't his fault. He wished he could have apologized or offered to clean it up. But instead of words coming out when he opened his mouth the Beef Vindaloo take-out he had eaten before leaving for Buzz did – all over his brand new black dress pants and green shirt.

Never again will he mix spicy food with Tequila body shots.

* * *

Harry sat with his head in his hands as he let the potion take effect. He was sitting in the chair opposite Kingsley's desk – clean and healed – willing away the faint ringing in his ears as Kingsley explained the situation.

"I'm not going to ask," Kingsley stated a few minutes after Harry had downed the Sobering potion. "We don't have time for your explanation."

The potion would smother the effects of the alcohol in his blood for as long as he took it, but the alcohol was still there and would eventually have to run its course along with a whopper of a hang-over to polish it off.

"Its fairly self-explanatory anyway, Kings," Harry quipped weakly. "I got drunk."

Ron handed Harry a glass of water and he sipped at it gingerly.

"Right, well we need to get on with this," Kingsley said unimpressed. "At about 2am we got a report of a possible Death Eater sighting; Theodore Nott Senior. The report was made by muggle family in Lincolnshire, they reported a man fitting Nott's description to the muggle police in their area. They claimed their son woke upon hearing their dog barking and he saw Nott exiting their hen house with two dead chickens under his arm. The boy also told the police that the man 'pulled out a stick and shot green light' at the family dog." Kingsley read the last part from a piece of paper he held in his hands.

"Upon inspecting the dog, the father – a Mr. Herbert Reynolds – found the dog to be dead," Kingsley continued. "The 'green light' was what red flagged the report to my desk. Lewis and Diver were on duty and alerted me as soon as it came through. They headed out to scope the area about an hour ago, Jenkins and Sanders followed after being briefed 30 minutes later and about 15 minutes ago they confirmed the sighting as accurate and suspect they have tracked him to an abandoned farmhouse north-east of the Reynolds residence."

Harry nodded to show he had understood everything Kingsley had told him. His head was now clear and he found he could think logically again, there were no after effects of the alcohol or the potion he was pleased to find.

"I instructed them to await your arrival with Weasley before making a move on him," Kingsley explained. "But I'm wondering whether or not you should go at all."

"I'm going Kings, I'm fine," Harry assured him. "The potion works wonders, I'm sharp as a tack."

"Sharp as a what?" Ron questioned raising his eyebrows. "Maybe he should stay, he's talking nonsense."

"Its not nonsense, Ron," Harry said tightly, annoyed that his friend was suggesting he stay behind. "Its muggle-talk."

"Look, Potter," Kingsley interrupted sharply. "I won't lose you on the field tonight because you aren't at your best. I'll leave the decision up to you, but if you feel the _slightest_ bit off your game I urge you not to go. Weasley can head this mission without you I'm sure."

"He's right mate," Ron agreed. "Maybe you should just head home. This'll be cake."

"Catching a Death Eater we've been after for nearly a decade will be cake, will it?" Harry said rolling his eyes. "Give me two minutes to change, I'm coming with you."

* * *

Armed with the apparation coordinates Harry and Ron set off to rendezvous with their team in Lincolnshire; Annabel Lewis, Jeffery Sanders, Billy Jenkins and Tanya Diver. They popped in about 300 metres from the rendezvous point so as not to alert Nott with the cracking sounds of apparating wizards and silently jogged over to the other Aurors.

Harry gave a curt nod to all four Aurors before getting straight down to business. "Update," he ordered.

"No activity – physical or magical – for the last 25 minutes," Annabel reported quietly. They were about 100 metres from the farmhouse they believed Nott to be hiding in but they were all still cautious of sounds alerting him of their presence.

"What makes you think he's in there?" Ron asked.

Harry was the highest ranking Auror still operational in Kingsley's team; there were several Aurors still involved in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that didn't do field assignments that ranked above Harry, but in the field he was head honcho and Ron was his second. Harry very rarely pulled rank on Ron and when he did he always had a very good reason for it.

"Scanned the area for recent magical activity, there were hot spots all over this area the hottest being that farmhouse and no nearby wizarding families to my knowledge," Tanya informed Harry and Ron. "We scanned the building and there is definitely human life inside – one adult male to be exact."

"How many exits?" Harry asked.

"Front and Back door and five windows he could fit through, one he couldn't," Annabel stated.

"Okay Sanders, I need you to quietly throw up some anti-apparation wards to trap him inside," Harry ordered. "Don't make it fancy just enough to keep him there long enough to stun him. Lewis and Jenkins – make a round of the house lock and alarm each window so if he tries to escape we'll know about it. Once you're done I need you, Sanders, to join me at that water tank – you have 2 minutes to put up the wards – and Lewis once you're done you will watch the front of the house and Jenkins you'll be watching the back. Stay low and hidden if you can and if things get too hot, get out. Understood?"

All three Aurors nodded and silently slipped off into the night to complete their assigned tasks.

"Okay, you two are with me," Harry said looking at Ron and Tanya. "We're going to get up close, but keep in behind the water tank. I'll do a heat scan to determine where in the house he is and then you two will enter from the back and Sanders and I will take the front. Hopefully we can trap him inside and stun him. Ready?"

"Yep," Ron grinned. "Let's do it!"

"Nothing stupid, Ron," Harry warned; he always worried when Ron got excited about dangerous situations. "Think of Rosie."

"Ditto, Harry," Ron warned him, obviously still worried about Harry's blood alcohol levels.

Harry had taken enough Sobering potion to last him three hours and he had enough for another three in his pocket, although he doubted he would need it; this would be quick whatever happened – they would either bag him or he would get away and it would all be over inside an hour, maybe even half an hour.

"Move out," Harry ordered and the three Aurors crept off towards the large water tank nestled just to the left side of the small abandoned farmhouse.

By the time Harry had completed the heat scan of the house to determine that the adult male inside was located in the living room at the front of the house, Jeffery was creeping up to join him. Harry had hoped to find him in one of the bedrooms where he would be more easily trapped, as it was the living room had a large window for him to escape out of and was dangerously close to the front door.

"Okay, same as before, you two take the back," Harry instructed. "Set your wands to vibrate in exactly one minute then again in 30 seconds. You two will enter the house through the back door exactly at the 1 minute vibration then Sanders and I will enter after the next 30 seconds you should be in the house and approaching the living room door by that time so we can cover both sides. Alright synchronize wands now and move out."

Harry watched Ron and Tanya slink low around to the back of the house until they disappeared into the darkness, then he waited to feel the first vibration of his wand.

"Hope this doesn't take too long," Jeffery remarked. "We've only got another hour of darkness before the sun rises."

Harry nodded in agreement and a few moments later he felt his wand buzz. "Let's go," he whispered.

He got into position ready for his signal to enter and, when it came not long after, he silently entered the house immediately seeing Ron and Tanya creeping up towards him from the other end of the hallway. When they were all within two metres of the entrance to the living room Harry gave the nod and they stormed the room, Harry and Ron entering first with Tanya and Jeffery flanking them.

Nott was obviously dozing when they entered but was quick to figure out who they were and what they wanted; he was up and out of his chair in a flash and he headed straight for the window to escape. Jeffery broke away from Harry to block the window exit shooting a Stunning spell at Nott as he went. Ron followed it up with another Stun when Jeffery's missed and Harry saw Nott pull his wand out.

"Throw down your wand!" Jeff yelled at Nott. "You're surrounded, there are Aurors outside as well; _we have you!_"

Nott raised his wand to fire a spell at Jeff but Harry was too quick. "_Expelliarmus!_" he yelled flicking his wand at Nott.

Harry reached out his hand and caught Nott's wand easily, but Nott wasn't going to give in like that. He let out a throaty scream as he ran towards Jeffery and the window – his escape route – with raised arms.

"_Stupefy!_" Jeff called out, stunning the large Death Eater and sending him crashing to the floor.

Unfortunately, as Nott was running when he was stunned his unconscious form was still propelled into Jeffery's rather smaller frame, knocking the air right out of his chest leaving him winded and crumpled under Nott's heavy weight.

"Ow," Jeff croaked from underneath Nott.

Jeffery huffed as he struggled to remove the large man and Ron rushed over to help him out.

"Diver," Harry called to Tanya. "Get Lewis and Jenkins in here, then help Sanders to the infirmary for a once over."

"The infirmary!? Harry! I'm fine just winded," Jeffery complained.

"_The infirmary Sanders!_" Harry barked.

Jeffery dropped his shoulders in defeat and allowed Tanya to side apparate him back to the Ministry after she'd returned with Annabel and Billy. Harry then ordered Billy and Ron to deliver Nott Snr to the Ministry holding cells while he and Annabel awaited the Investigative team who would comb the farmhouse for evidence to use against Nott in his trial.

* * *

Over the next three weeks Harry was absolutely flat out with work to do; after spending nearly two days taking a cocktail of Sobering potion, Pepper-up potion and Headache potions in order to question Nott extensively about his movements over the last 10 years – only to find out a big fat load of nothing – Kingsley finally ordered him to go home and recover.

The next three days were spent in bed with various members of the Weasley family dropping in to check on him so regularly Harry wondered if Hermione hadn't drawn up some sort of schedule as they tag-teamed in and out of his apartment. Although he occasionally found this irritating – especially when George decided to persistently probe him about how he got so drunk in the first place – overall he was profoundly grateful for their unwavering care and attention.

Once Harry was back up on his feet and operating without the assistance of performance-enhancing potions, he then had to go over what he had missed in those three days. He also had to face the enormous amount of paperwork that followed any mission, as well as try to pull together all the evidence they had on Nott Snr's involvement in Voldemort's rein of terror to make damn sure he spent the rest of his days locked up in Azkaban.

In addition to all of this Harry often did overtime to cover the other Aurors who had family, particularly those with children, as he recognized the importance of their time at home and as he didn't have that sort of family life he didn't mind doing it for them.

It was for all these reasons – and perhaps a little personal anxiety – that Harry didn't contact Draco Malfoy for three weeks after the last time he saw him at Callum's birthday celebration. Harry had finally been forced into three days off and after spending the first catching up on sleep had decided to drop in on Draco to see if the man might allow Harry to take him to dinner.

* * *

Harry found himself nervously fidgeting as he took the lift up to the fifteenth floor where the young woman at the front desk said Draco's office was – well, Leo Black's office. What would Draco think of Harry just dropping in like this? Would he be mad at him? Or happy? Harry had been terribly drunk but he had still remembered that goodbye kiss – unless he imagined it, which was more than likely.

_Deep breath Harry,_ he told himself. _Let's go._

Harry inhaled and stepped out of the elevator when the doors finally opened on the fifteenth floor. He wandered up to the front desk to a woman he thought he might have recognized from Callum's party, but before he even opened his mouth to ask for 'Leo Black' Harry heard someone call to him from across the room.

"Hero Harry!" Callum shouted in greeting.

"Callum," Harry replied and shook his hand. "All is well I hope."

"Yes, yes, all good," Callum said grinning at him. "I'm glad to see you, Man. Leo's been going a bit nuts the last few weeks and he won't admit it but I reckon it might be _your_ fault."

"My fault?"

"Yeah well you left sort of abruptly and as far as I gathered you didn't contact him afterwards," Callum explained.

"Yeah, things got a bit crazy at work," Harry said bashfully running a hand through his dark hair.

"Well, you're here now," Callum smiled. "Just brace yourself when you enter, his office is down that corridor third door on the right."

"Brace myself?"

"Just a little friendly advice," Callum winked.

Harry gulped as he gazed down the corridor Callum had indicated was home to Draco's office; it suddenly seemed very long and foreboding. So Draco was angry with him for not contacting him sooner, was that a good thing or not? Harry was excited to hear Draco was anxiously waiting to hear from him, but an angry Draco was never a good thing. He threw Callum a weak smile that came out more as a grimace before squaring his shoulders and making his way to the third door on the right; he knocked loudly three times.

"Come in," he heard Draco call from inside.

Harry turned the knob slowly and cautiously peeked inside. "Hey," he said softly as though his low voice might calm the beast. "Just thought I'd drop in and say hi. I hope its okay...?"

"Inside, Potter," Draco snapped. "And close the door."

Harry felt the blood drain from his face as he stepped into the dragon's lair to accept his fate. "Everything alright?" he asked carefully.

Draco pushed himself out from his desk and walked around to place himself directly in front of Harry. For a moment Harry felt butterflies take life in his stomach as it looked like Draco might kiss him, but the sharp sting he felt stab through the flesh of his cheek and the resounding crack that echoed through the largely empty room told him he had gotten a tad ahead of himself; Draco had slapped him.

"Ow!" he yelped pressing his hand firmly against his abused cheek.

"You total and complete _fucking asshole!_" Draco hissed at him. "How fucking dare you!?"

"How dare I what!?"

"I might have been drunk but I wasn't so bad that I don't fucking remember where you went!" Draco shouted.

"Where I went?" Harry asked genuinely confused at what was happening; it wasn't as though he'd gone home with the bartender! "I went to work…"

"Exactly!" Draco exclaimed still shouting. "Jesus Harry, you're a fucking Auror for fucks sake! You could have been killed! You were totally off your fucking face, you would have hexed yourself in the balls before you even got _close_ to hexing someone else!"

"Jeez, don't hold back the swearing on my account Draco, I'm no lady," Harry teased the blonde struggling not to laugh which was probably not the best idea…

"Oh you're so fucking funny aren't you, Potter!?" Draco spat sarcastically. "Just like the joke you made before you left! The Carrows, huh? _The Carrows!?_"

"Draco, I think you're overreacting just a little," Harry informed him quietly.

"Shut the fuck up!" Draco snapped. "I thought you were _dead!_ It's been three weeks! I _actually_ considered going back just to make sure you were still alive! I stood out the front of the Leaky Cauldron for three frickin hours trying to catch pieces of people's conversations as they came in and out to see if they were talking about your _funeral!_"

"Really?" Harry asked, a little taken-aback; he couldn't hide his smile – Draco actually cared about him, he was worried. "You did?"

"Yes you idiot!" Draco replied, visibly calming down at the sight of Harry's smile. "Don't you ever do that to me again!"

Draco exhaled abruptly and leaned into Harry's chest which made the Auror smile and wrap him in a hug. "I wouldn't dare," Harry promised. "I'll check in regularly from now on, you have my word."

It was as though Harry's words suddenly pulled Draco back into reality as he pushed Harry away and straightened himself out. Draco cleared his throat and walked back to his chair feeling more comfortable when there was a large desk between him and Harry.

"Yes," he said awkwardly. "Make sure you do."

Harry's smile just got broader at Draco's actions, especially when he noticed the pink tinge to Draco's cheeks. "Can I take you to dinner tonight?" he asked.

"Um, no I don't think so," Draco declined.

"Why not? Do you have plans already?"

"Only with my microwaveable packet pasta," Draco laughed.

"Then let me take you out somewhere," Harry offered.

Draco shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea. It seems too much like a date."

"Why shouldn't it be a date?"

"You're asking me out on a date? Seriously?" Draco laughed.

"Why is that so funny?"

"I don't know, it just is! It's weird, isn't it? Us – together – on a date…"

"Maybe, but who gives a shit! What about my life has been remotely normal? What about your life has been normal for that matter?" Harry challenged, determined to get Draco to agree.

"I'm still not keen," Draco admitted. "I know it seems prudish – and I'm _far_ from a prude, trust me – but a date with you just seems a little quick. I don't really know what I want from you yet, I don't even know if I want to do the 'friends' thing yet."

"You're right," Harry nodded in mock-disappointment, "that does sound prudish!" He flashed Draco a wicked grin and Draco threw his pen at Harry's head which he ducked easily.

Draco got up from his desk again to meet Harry on the other side; he pressed himself right up against the raven-haired man and leaned in close so Harry could feel his warm breath caress his lips.

"I assure you I am _not_ a prude," Draco whispered trying to intimidate his former nemesis. "If I wanted to I could have you right here on my desk and you would ride me like it was going out of style. I could have you scream my name until your throat was sore and your arse was bleeding and you would still beg for more."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Harry whispered painfully aware of his erection pressing into Draco's pelvis.

"And you'll love every second," Draco quipped.

"Yes, I will."

"You'll have to earn it," Draco warned him.

"Then let me start with dinner…"

"You can start," Draco said slowly and thoughtfully as he pulled away from Harry, "by arranging for me to visit my parents' graves."

Harry didn't respond as he breathed deeply, trying to haul his mind out of the gutter and subdue his burning erection.

"Uh huh," Harry nodded. "I can take you whenever you like."

"Sunday afternoon," Draco instructed him as he handed Harry a small piece of paper with his home address written on it. "Pick me up at 4 o'clock, don't be late."

"I wouldn't dare," Harry smiled.

* * *

Okay so what did you think? I want feedback on my drunk Harry, my action scene and the interaction with Draco. Where do you see it going? Where would you like to see it go?

Also was the first name/last name thing in the action scene too confusing. I wrote it that way because I thought these guys are Harry's friends and in all other situations - other than on field assignments - Harry would use their first names, but to establish his higher rank (which he does with everyone bar Ron) he uses their last names when they are on a mission. So the last names only came out in the actual talking...

Thats about all, please review to keep this story going!


	5. Hey Mum and Dad, How's it hanging?

Alrighty then, here it is! Review at the end! Those who read An Unorthodox Love Story know what I'm capable of if you readers slack off in the review department!

Chapter 5: Hey Mum and Dad, How's it hanging?

Draco was exhausted when he arrived home that Tuesday evening at about 8 o'clock. He had worked late to prepare for a luncheon he had the next day with some of his more important clients. Unfortunately, what should have taken him no more than 90 minutes took about 3 hours due to the distracted state of mind Harry had left him in that day.

_Stupid Potter._

Draco was just settling down in front of the news with his steaming plastic bowl full of macaroni and cheese when he heard a tap at his window. His body froze up immediately as he recognized the sound; he had an owl. He sat for a few moments wondering if he should ignore it – did he really want to hear what Potter had to say about his whore-ish declaration earlier that day? – but the owl tapped again.

Groaning, Draco pushed himself up and out of his favourite armchair to let the bird in. Unsurprisingly, he found Harry Potter's beautiful owl sitting elegantly outside his window.

"Hello again," Draco greeted her. "Your owner is getting to be a pain in my arse, isn't he?" he cooed.

She just hooted back to him and stuck out her leg with his letter attached. It said:

_Draco,_

_Just letting you know I got home safely._

_Harry x_

Draco couldn't help the blush that crept up his neck. He was embarrassed enough as it was that he'd asked Potter to check in with him so he wouldn't worry. Every time he replayed their encounter in his mind he just felt more humiliated by his actions; he couldn't _believe_ the things he'd said! And now Potter was just rubbing it in!

'_Very funny,'_ was all Draco wrote in reply before sending Harry's owl back out the window, but not before allowing himself a thorough petting of her and spoiling her with his wheat flakes cereal.

* * *

On Wednesday evening Draco got another letter from Harry, this one said:

_Draco,_

_Miraculously, I managed to survive the day. _

_Tomorrow might be dangerous though, I might have to sharpen my quill and last time I did that I nearly lost a finger._

_Harry x_

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's letter but, while he thought the man had taken this 'checking in' joke a little too far, he secretly delighted in the receiving these letters from him and so he decided to play along.

He replied:

_Potter,_

_How you have lived this long continues to astound me when considering your extreme clumsiness and general stupidity. _

_Please count all of your fingers and toes at the end of the day tomorrow and report back._

_Draco_

_PS: What did you name your owl? I have become rather fond of her and am sick of calling her 'girl'._

Draco didn't expect to hear from Harry until the next evening so he was surprised when the white-faced owl showed up on his window sill again half an hour later.

_Draco,_

_Her name is Athena, after the Greek Goddess. She was a gift from Hermione and Ron. Hermione named her, I didn't like it at first but it's grown on me._

_I think she likes you too, she never complains when I send her to you like she does when I send her to Hermione and Ron. I think Rosie gets a little grabby. __Also I have a feeling you have been spoiling her with food; she won't eat her dinner after she visits you._

_Perhaps I can come and visit you tomorrow night and you can count my limbs yourself. I'll bring a bottle of firewhiskey._

_Harry xo_

Draco sighed, reading the letter twice over before starting his reply. Harry was getting a little pushy about becoming a regular in Draco's life and while his heart beat a little faster every time he thought of those incredible green eyes, or that messy black hair that grew in every direction – oh and that taut body, _wow _– umhmm, where was I? Oh yes, um Harry was definitely a bad idea, a very bad idea. Yes, a very naughty idea – a sexy naughty idea. _God dammit! _

Draco shook his head trying to forcefully remove the images he had plaguing his mind; he had to reply to Harry's letter quickly before he said 'Just come over now, I have scotch – and lube.'

_Potter,_

_Trust Granger to call your owl Athena. It's so sickeningly appropriate. _

_They say Athena was the goddess of wisdom (although that you lack) and military victory, she was a companion to heroes._

_You can come on Sunday as arranged. _

_Draco_

_PS: I may feed her sometimes, I hope you don't mind._

Harry and Draco kept up their flirtatious correspondence for the rest of the week and Draco thrilled at every tap Athena made at his window; he even bought her a perch which he sat by his favourite chair in his lounge room. He told himself over and over that this was a very bad idea and he needed to end it immediately; he was getting dangerously close to the wizarding community through Harry and he knew that confining all their encounters to the muggle world wouldnt always be enough for his old rival, eventually he would want more.

* * *

When Sunday afternoon arrived Draco was anxiously tapping his foot watching the clock; it was half past 3, Harry would be another 30 minutes. He was nervous although he couldn't differentiate between his nervous-excitement at seeing Harry again and his nervous-fear at visiting his parents' graves.

He slapped his thigh in an attempt to stop his twitching leg. What was he afraid of anyway? Visiting his parents? They were dead, what could possibly happen? It was doubtful, even for the Malfoys, that they would rise from their graves just to tell Draco off for shaming the Malfoy name by living as a muggle for 10 years. Yeah right, because _he_ was the one who brought shame to the Malfoy name, not his father's antics with the Dark Lord.

_Ergh. Bad memories_.

A sharp knock interrupted his reluctant trip down memory lane; Potter was 20 minutes early.

"What are you doing here already?" Draco asked in lieu of a greeting when he opened the door to find Harry Potter standing there looking far too gorgeous.

"Um, my watch is fast?" Harry said with a grin, shrugging at his obvious lie.

"The truth?" Draco demanded.

"I was hoping to catch you stepping out of the shower so I could see you in a towel."

"Pervert," Draco rebuked him, while he suppressed a delighted shiver.

Harry just laughed as he stepped into Draco's spacious flat. "Don't mind me, continue getting ready, I'll just poke around," he said.

"I'm not letting you freely poke through my things, Potter," Draco admonished him. "I'm ready enough."

Draco had been ready to go for an hour, but he wasn't exactly going to admit that.

"Everything in here is muggle," Harry remarked.

"Yes, Potter, this is how I live now," Draco said as though Harry was a five year old.

"You don't have _anything_ from our world?"

"Nothing," he admitted.

"Do you miss it?"

"No," he replied a little too quickly.

Harry smirked at him as though he knew he was lying.

"I miss some things," Draco finally confessed.

Harry just nodded, not asking him to elaborate.

"Maybe we should go," Draco suggested lightly.

Harry nodded. "Okay, well hang on tight," he instructed holding his arm out to Draco.

"Wait, we're apparating?" Draco asked nervously.

"How else did you think we would get there?" Harry teased. "It's a 3 hour drive by car; it'd be dark by the time we arrived."

Draco swallowed hard and the contraction of his throat stung his dry mouth. He nodded to Harry while mentally punishing himself for his stupidity – _of course they were apparating! Harry was right, how else would they get there?_

He held Harry's arm with a tight death-grip, but if he was cutting off Harry's blood circulation the Auror was too polite to say anything.

After going so long without it, magic made Draco nervous, but he wasn't sure why.

_Probably just out of practice,_ he reassured himself. Although if he was honest he would know it was more than that, but he didn't let himself think on it long enough to wonder why something so natural to him frightened him so much.

* * *

The wind whipped cool against his face and the light dimmed around him as grey clouds moved across the sun. He had reveled in the brief warmth he had felt when they first arrived as the sun peeked from the clouds and bright rays of sunlight bathed his pale flesh setting his blonde hair alight. The sun was gone now but his hair still seemed to shine, like it had its own power source, if it had glowed in a pitch black room he would not have been surprised.

Harry loved that his hair shone, Draco could tell, the wide-eyed man couldn't stop staring; the soft glow around his face made him look like an angel.

The green grass was crisp under his feet and he could hear it crunch as he walked along the rows and rows of headstones towards the grand tombstone he had custom made to mark the final resting place of his parents. He had described the tombstone in detail to the stonemason but had yet to set his eyes upon it; it was obvious which one it was, it was easily the biggest in the cemetery. His anxiety rose and clutched at his throat the closer he got until finally, with three graves to go, he changed his mind.

What was he thinking? This was just another reason why he should have told Potter to piss off as soon as he'd arrived back in his life. This Gryffindor Idiot was pulling him further and further into his past, back to his old life, a place – a time – he had crossed the world to get away from. He had managed to put nearly 10 years and a whole world between his past and his present and in just a few weeks Potter had managed to close that gap like nobody's business! No, he had to turn around before he went too far.

"Potter," he said with his head held high. Those shining emerald eyes were gazing at him again, apparently he had stopped dead in his tracks a while ago, perhaps even before he'd consciously decided that he'd come too far. "I've seen enough, take me home."

"We haven't even made it all the way there yet," Harry said gently.

"Yes, well," Draco started to say, but he wasn't sure how to finish.

Should he tell Potter the truth? That he was scared. Scared of… what? His past? The person he used to be? The person he often thought might still live inside of him – and if he was right, if the teenaged Draco Malfoy still lurked beneath his flesh, then what? Could this trip down memory lane bring him back? No. That was impossible, he didn't have a split personality; he'd just learned some of life's lessons the hard way. So he was a different person now, but why did that make him so afraid to face his past?

Draco squeezed his eyes shut. He knew why. He remembered all too well the things he'd done – the mistakes he'd made – and for what? Beliefs he now knew were as absurd as Harry always said they were. Muggle-hating. His best friends were muggles. Hell, he was practically one himself!

Draco was afraid to face his past, ashamed to face the decisions he'd made and look upon them with fresh eyes.

Sure, muggles had their faults and the separation of their two worlds was absolutely necessary for a few reasons; wizards were outnumbered – by _a lot!_ – and magic was foreign to muggles, different, strange and scary. Muggles didn't cope with difference very well; in fact they got downright illogical about it! If muggles ever found out about them they would be slaughtered. But even then, this potential end to wizard-kind didn't give them the right to slaughter them all first! Their two worlds had been successfully separated for who knows how long – however long they'd been on this Earth – so the chances of it happening now were slim at best.

Muggles were nothing if not blissfully ignorant. Sure, there were a few Mulders out there searching for the truth, but overall they didn't want to know. Even if the final Harry Potter vs. the Dark Lord show down had happened right smack bang in the middle of muggle London at peak time, most of them would have said 'What? Huh? What evil snake-looking man? What beautiful god-like boy with emeralds in his eyes?'

"Draco?" Harry said snapping him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay? You sort of drifted off on me."

"Fine, I think," he said. "Just give me a minute."

"What are you afraid of?" Harry asked, far too perceptively.

"Who says I'm afraid?!" Draco replied, slightly unnerved.

"Your body," Harry answered with a smirk referring to Draco's anxious stance.

"Quit staring at my body, Potter!" Draco replied abashed. "And get your mind out of the gutter, I'm about to see my parents graves for the first time in 10 years, this is neither the place nor time!"

Harry's mind was not as far in the gutter as it _had_ been this week, but he'd found whenever he was around the blonde he was constantly thinking about kissing him or touching him in some way. He felt instantly ashamed when Draco reminded him of where they were and what this meant for him; he shouldn't be thinking about anything but being there for Draco.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have…" Harry said, letting his voice trail off. "Does this mean we are going the rest of the way?" he added, nodding his head towards the large Malfoy tombstone.

Draco didn't reply. He wanted to be brave and walk straight up there and say 'Hey Mum and Dad, how's it hanging?' but his fear of his past, his fear of himself stilled his feet.

He didn't like Draco Malfoy; he was far more comfortable being Leo Black. At the office, when he was surrounded by people he _was_ Leo Black a muggle and a businessman, but at night when he was alone he felt like Draco Malfoy, the pureblood wizard who had run away with his tail between his legs. Around Harry though, he felt like a different Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy he wanted to be; proud, brave, confident, respected, and worthy – not the scum he always thought Harry saw him as.

Harry was here now, but for some reason he felt like the Draco he was at home, when he was alone; that was until he felt a warm, smooth hand slip into his. The movement surprised him and his head snapped up to look at Harry's face, he was smiling softly and his eyes showed just how much he believed in him; believed in his ability to do it, not just visit his parents today, but all of it.

Draco's heart fluttered at the raw emotion Harry showed; he would do it, if only to prove to Harry that he could, that his faith in him was not a wasted effort. It was as though the confidence and bravery Draco knew Harry possessed were somehow transferred into Draco through their entwined fingers, like Harry was sharing it with him.

Draco nodded to Harry to indicate he was ready to go and the two men took the final few steps, hand in hand, to graves of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

The tombstone was exactly as Draco had described to the stonemason. It was large, about as tall as he was, with their names elegantly etched into the grey granite stone underneath the faces of five child-like angels gazing down upon them.

Draco looked over it with sorrow, his hand still tightly grasping Harry's for strength.

"I wanted to write a message on it," he whispered as tears welled up in his eyes.

Harry removed his gaze from Draco's face and let his eyes sweep the inscription of the grave; there was no message just their names and birth and death dates.

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked quietly.

"There was nothing to say," Draco admitted sadly. "I loved them, but I'm not sure they ever truly deserved it. I wasn't proud of their life, they never lived it well."

Harry didn't respond because he could only agree and it was not a nice thing to agree to. He ran through the various things one might put on a gravestone – praising the dead or being assured they where somewhere better in the afterlife – neither seemed appropriate as both would be a lie; they could not be praised and if it was true that one atoned for their mortal life after death, where they went would not be pleasant. They loved their son, it was the only good thing they ever did and the only truth Harry could think of that Draco might inscribe on their grave was 'loved and mourned by a son who was never proud of them'. Sad.

"I don't think I'll ever come back here after today," Draco said.

Harry nodded. He didn't need to ask why, he already knew. Draco might be coming back to himself but he was moving on from his past.

* * *

The two men popped easily back into Draco's London flat, but Draco was unsteady on his feet. Harry had been pleased to find that Draco's apartment wasn't too far from his own, only a 10 minute walk at most which he had timed walking here that afternoon. Draco sat shakily down at his dining room table and Harry watched him closely.

"Feeling okay there, Draco?" he asked. "I guess it must be weird after 10 years – apparating I mean."

Draco just nodded. "You don't have to stay," he said.

"Oh right, sure," Harry agreed. "Let me just get you a glass of water."

"I'm fine," Draco said shaking his head.

"Let me get myself one then," Harry winked.

He sashayed into Draco's kitchen where he proceeded to open every cupboard in there searching for the glasses.

"Top corner cupboard, Potter," he instructed.

"I never got to tell you that we caught someone," Harry said as he filled two glass up with water from the jug Draco kept in his fridge. "After Callum's birthday we went after a Death Eater and got him."

"How did you manage that?" Draco asked slightly horrified. "You were drunk out of your mind!"

"That's your first response? _How did you do it while drunk?_" Harry teased him while placing Draco's drink next to him on the table. "Not who was it?"

"I have no interest in who it was," Draco informed him. "It doesn't affect me."

"And how I managed it does affect you?"

"If you take stupid risks and are likely to get yourself killed soon then yes, it does affect me," Draco replied trying to sound casual.

"What if it was the Carrows?" Harry asked. "It would affect you if it was them. You said you'd come back if I caught them."

"I said no such thing!"

"You did! On that first day, you told me if I caught them you'd come back!" Harry argued.

"I most certainly did not," Draco retorted. "If I said _anything_ about it, it wasn't an outright promise to return if you were successful. I'd rather you didn't chase psychopaths up and down England just so you can take me for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry huffed and creased his eyebrows in a sulky frown. He sipped slowly at his water while Draco looked on.

"Oh stop pouting," Draco sighed after a few minutes.

Harry ignored him and frowned harder in open defiance of his request.

"Fine, who was it?" Draco asked, he had no patience left to put up with Harry's displeasure.

"That's not why I'm upset," Harry replied.

"Why then?"

"Are you really never coming home?" he asked softly, gazing at Draco with a pained look.

Draco ran one of his hands over his face in frustration and sigh loudly. This was a question he still hadn't managed to answer for himself, let alone Potter.

"I don't have a home to go back to, Potter," he said finally.

"I could give you one," Harry offered with a tentative smile.

Those words knocked the air right out of Draco's chest for it was then he realized what Harry wanted; a relationship. A real, proper, adult relationship, not a short fling or casual sex. He didn't just want to know how Draco fared in bed or what he looked like naked, he wanted whispered words, tender moments and promises of forever. He wanted heated arguments and make-up sex, he wanted to use Draco's toothbrush and look after him when he got sick.

Draco's mind blanked when he tried to respond; it was totally empty. He couldn't even think long enough to wonder whether the idea of having an adult relationship with Harry left him feeling exhilarated or freaked out.

Harry just stared at him.

"If you're feeling okay, I'll just leave you to it," Harry said after a while of Draco's silence.

Draco nodded. It was the first sign of brain activity he'd shown since Harry offered him a home.

"You should leave next Saturday free," Harry said before leaving, "all day if you can manage it."

Draco didn't respond, he had settled back into his stunned silence.

"Anyway," Harry finished with a shrug. "I'll owl you."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of Draco's reaction to his words; should he be nervous? Worried? Or excited that he'd had such an effect? Was gob smacked a good reaction or a bad one?

He pulled the door to Draco's flat shut behind him and took a deep breath before starting to walk home. By the time he arrived back at his own apartment 10 minutes later, he had decided he would just have to convince Draco that a home with him would be worth giving up whatever he had in the muggle world.

* * *

Okay lovers! I'm pleased to say I have a sort of plot going in my head for this, but nothing set so as usual I am encouraging suggestions as well as praise!

Review please!


	6. Just a bit much

10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 3 1/2... 2... 1 3/4... yes!

Chapter 6: Just a bit much.

It was Wednesday night and Draco wasn't sure if the fact he spent his nights at home alone lately bothered him more or less the closer he got to Harry. Before Harry took up such are starring role in his life (and thoughts) Draco would spend most nights drinking at the Beer Garden, his favourite pub, on Friday and Saturday nights he would stay till close then drunkenly stumble home with Todd the adorable Irish bartender for a clumsy romp. Todd was hopelessly smitten with Draco who thought Todd gave great head but that was about it.

He was staring into the bottom of his scotch glass wondering why he hadn't gone to see the Irish bartender to indulge himself and release the sexual frustration that had been bubbling over for the last several weeks, when he heard a knock at his door.

It was Harry. He was looking delectable as usual, dressed in faded blue jeans and a loose navy blue shirt. He had a goofy but nervous looking smile on his face as he held a cup of ice cream in each hand.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked.

He hadn't expected to see Harry until Saturday. The young man had owled him as promised and Draco had agreed to take the day off, he heard from Harry most days and while he was certainly expecting to see Athena that night, he wasn't expecting Harry in person.

Harry took a deep breath and the speech he had prepared while taking the elevator up to Draco's flat disappeared from his head and all he could seem to do was babble.

"Did I tell you that I don't actually live too far away from you?" he said, still standing in the hallway. "That ice cream place on the corner is actually where I get dessert sometimes, it's only a ten minute walk and I like the fresh air plus I guess the walking counteracts the calories from the ice cream. Anyway, I went in there tonight and I asked for mint choc chip and the kid gave me cherry ripple, so I asked for mint choc chip again and now I have two. I thought you might like one."

Harry was blushing furiously as he heard himself speak, he knew he sounded like a bit of a fool prattling on like that but he couldn't help it. This was his first romantic gesture to Draco and the cool, witty Harry who smoothly confessed his desire to feel Draco pinned underneath him naked and moaning was lost to the vulnerability he felt by demonstrating the extent of his feelings this way.

"I don't like cherry ripple," was Draco's blunt reply.

"How about mint choc chip?"

"Nope," Draco said. He wasn't trying to be harsh with Harry but he loved having the upper hand when last time it was Harry who left _him_ flailing.

"What about choc vanilla swirl?" Harry replied, bending down to pick up plain brown paper bag which Draco knew the ice cream parlour handed out to help customers with large orders. He had placed it beside the door and just out of Draco's sight.

"I thought you only had two," Draco reminded him.

"I didn't know which one you liked so I pretty much got one of everything," Harry confessed blushing again.

"I thought this extra ice cream was an accident," Draco continued with wry grin.

"Cookies and cream?"

"Exactly how much ice cream do you have?"

"Caramel and English toffee?" Harry asked, grinning and ignoring Draco's question.

"Potter, what if I don't like ice cream?"

This wasn't true, Draco loved ice cream, I mean who didn't!?

Harry, who was still standing in the hallway, handed Draco the ice cream he held and bent to pick up another bag, this one was from the supermarket.

"You've got an oven, right?" he asked still smiling, but still flushed. "Do you like Apple pie?" he said, pulling out a frozen apple pie from the shopping bag. "Sticky date pudding?"

"Did anybody ever tell you dessert was supposed to be eaten in moderation?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"Apricot Danish?" Harry continued, he was starting to enjoy this game and was exceedingly glad he'd gone overboard buying dessert; he could tell Draco thought this was hilarious even if he didn't show it plainly.

"And infrequently?" Draco continued.

"Apple and rhubarb crumble?"

"Ew, rhubarb?" Draco replied, screwing up his face. "That's disgusting."

Harry stepped inside and marched straight to Draco's kitchen. The blonde followed him casually and stored the melting ice cream in his freezer.

"How do you turn the oven on?" Harry asked, staring perplexed at all the turning dials and diagrams next to each option. "It's been a while since I've used one."

"_Please,_ do I look like I bake to you?" Draco scoffed. "That thing is there purely for decoration."

"Pretty," Harry replied sarcastically. "Well, where are the instructions?"

"What instructions?"

"Good thing I brought the ice cream then," Harry said. "Vanilla and honeycomb?"

Draco couldn't hold it in any longer and as he rolled his eyes, he laughed out loud at Harry's over the top gesture that left a pleasant squirming feeling in his stomach. He had never wanted to throw Harry down on his bed and have his way more than he did that night. Too bad he still thought inviting Harry into his life was possibly a very big mistake or he would have done just that.

* * *

Harry had left late that night; they spent the evening watching movies and eating far too much ice cream. They even tried to cook the apple pie in the oven which they thought they might have managed to do until Harry went to check on it 30 minutes later only to find the oven ice cold and the pie still frozen.

Nonetheless, Draco was visibly glowing when he walked into work the next morning and Callum was the first to notice.

"Well, well, well," Callum chanted. "Do tell."

"Tell you what?" Draco asked with a grin. For a straight man that spent his adolescence surfing up and down the New South Wales coastline, Callum was distinctly gay when it came to his love of gossip.

"Man, if you were a chick I'd bet money you were preggers," he stated simply.

"Cal, you would bet on pretty much anything and I'm not pregnant," Draco retorted.

"You are glowing the happy glow, Leo," Callum persisted. "Now spill before I have to tip you over!"

"No," Draco refused.

"Did you fuck him?" Callum asked looking smug.

"Did I fuck who?" Draco asked feigning ignorance.

"Harry, you idiot!" Callum exclaimed. "_Who else!?_"

"No, I did not _fuck_ him," Draco bit out getting a tad frustrated with Callum.

Draco didn't want to tell Callum anything about his night with Harry because he knew his best friend would just get all smug about Draco's attraction to his nemesis and then he'd get twittery about 'when was the wedding?'

Callum had been teasing Draco about it since his birthday when he spied them kissing just before Harry took off; something Draco wasn't even sure Harry remembered happening. 'Can I be your best man?' he would constantly say, confidently ignoring Draco's requests for him to shut up and his threats to be strapped to the first plane back to Sydney.

"Sorry," Callum replied. "Did you _make love_ to him?" he teased haughtily.

"Fuck off or I'll fire you," Draco threatened.

"But you saw him didn't you?" Callum persisted. "He came over or called you or something right?"

"What makes you say that?" Draco was trying to look annoyed but he simply couldn't manage it, his smile broke through even now as he recalled his evening with Harry.

"The happy glow, Leo," Callum reminded him with mock-impatience. "Come on, keep up!" he said clicking his fingers in Draco's face.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Not until you spill! Come on!" Callum whined. "The girls on second get all loose when I talk about your long lost love from the past, and I swear Nicki is almost about to crack!"

"You're using romantic anecdotes from _my_ love life to charm the girls on the second floor into dropping their knickers for you?" Draco said horrified.

Callum just shrugged guiltily.

"You're sick," Draco informed him.

"Just give me the juice and I'll leave you alone," Callum promised batting his eyes at the blonde.

"He came over with ice cream," Draco said simply.

"Ice cream, how girly!" Callum replied excitedly; he was loving every second. "Did you eat from the same tub? The same spoon? Did he feed you himself?"

"Different spoons, I'm not an infant I fed myself, and there were several tubs because he said he didn't know which flavour I liked," Draco smiled softly at the memory.

"How many flavours did he bring?"

"About eight or so, plus apple pie and pudding and apricot danish and I think even a cheesecake, though we didn't get to that," Draco laughed; he couldn't help himself, if Nicki on second was dumb enough to give it up to Callum even with his notorious reputation as a womanizer, well who was he to cock-block him. "He just showed up on my doorstep, I wasn't expecting to see him until Saturday."

"Ah yes, the surprise date," Callum nodded; he'd already extracted this information from Draco.

"I still don't know what's happening for that," Draco replied softly. "And it's not a date! _Is it?_"

"Leo, I think you might be falling in love," Callum replied in awe. "I can't believe you are leaving me on my own out here."

"I'm not leaving you alone anywhere."

"First Jared and now you!"

"Jared is with Lindsay, he's always been with Lindsay!" Draco exclaimed. "They're married!"

"You're going to have to live the excitement of single life and casual sex vicariously through me from now on!"

Draco groaned. "Harry and I are _not _a couple, now go away! You've got your dirt!"

"Not a couple _yet_," Callum corrected his friend. "But he's perfect for you so I guess I have to be happy."

"Perfect for me?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Yeah, he's a total freak, just like you!" Callum stated affectionately.

"I'm not a freak!"

"Yes, you are," Callum replied casually. "I always knew you were a little weird but I thought it was like your individuality or something, but he's exactly the same! Seriously, what did they put in your town's drinking water? Where did you say you grew up again?"

"Pluto when it was still a planet," Draco replied. "And there's nothing in our drinking water."

Draco had had enough of Callum's antics and pointedly walked off to shut himself in his office, he knew the brunette wouldn't follow him. Callum was quite possibly the most annoying person Draco had ever met – no scratch that, second most annoying after Pansy Parkinson, or was that third after Pansy and Potter? – either way Callum knew where his boundaries were and while he pushed them sometimes, he never crossed them. He genuinely cared about Draco and it was for that reason only that he put up with this shit from him, it was his way of showing it.

* * *

"Is the blindfold really necessary, Potter?" Draco asked again for the fifty-seventh time.

He was feeling rather wobbly after having to side-apparate with Harry again and his ability to get his bearings and balance was greatly impacted by the fact he could see nothing but blackness. Harry held him tightly with both hands to keep him steady and Draco tingled from their close proximity. He thought Harry must be walking backwards facing him and guiding him forwards. The ground felt grassy under his feet and the breeze he felt on his face as well as the sound of rustling trees and birds led him to conclude that wherever they were, they were outside.

"Okay, stop," Harry said before releasing his grip on Draco's arms and disappearing.

Draco felt instantly tense at the loss of Harry's support and he reached out in front of him with his arms. He found nothing but air.

"Potter?" he called out reaching for him again.

There was no response.

Draco took a small step forward to increase the range of his arms reach. "Potter?" he called again a little louder.

Still no response.

"Harry!?" Draco called as he started to get anxious. "Harry!"

Draco strained his ears and he heard clearly the chattering birds and crackling leaves as the knocked together in the wind, but no Harry.

"I'm taking the blindfold off!" he called out.

"No, don't!" Harry responded finally and Draco could hear him running over. "Okay, hands out," he ordered.

Draco complied placing both his hands out in front of him palms open and facing upwards. He smiled, he loved receiving presents; not that he knew this was a present, but odds were good.

Harry placed something in his hands and moved to stand behind him and undo the tie of the blindfold. Hmm, it was long and smooth and reasonably heavy and… oh god. He knew what this was. It had been a long time but once he thought about it the feel of it in his hands was so familiar.

Harry removed his blindfold and Draco looked down at his hands to discover he was correct in his guess of what he was holding.

A broomstick.

"No," Draco said as soon as he saw it and he let the broom roll from his open palms and fall to his feet. He stepped away from it.

"Why not?" Harry asked looking crestfallen. "I thought it would be fun. We could go flying just you and me."

"No," Draco said shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"It's been ten years, Potter," Draco reminded him. "I haven't flown since Hogwarts."

"So, its like riding bike, once you learn you don't forget," Harry replied. He so wanted to do this, Draco could see it in his big green eyes.

"Riding a broom is nothing like riding a bike," Draco said unimpressed. "Why do you want me to do this?"

"Because you said you missed some parts of being a wizard and I thought since we could do this alone you might like it," Harry explained. "No one will see you and you can go back to being a muggle tonight when I take you home."

"I don't know," Draco said apprehensively.

"Would you like to watch me do a few laps first?" Harry offered. "To remind you how much you loved it."

"Oh for God's sake!" Draco cried in frustration at his own fear. He stared intently at the broom and stepped up to it. "Up!" he called and the broom jumped up into his hand.

Harry smiled and mounted his own broom. Rising slowly into the air and staying close to Draco while watching him mount his broom and kick off. Draco's giddy and unsteady feeling returned full force for a few seconds before his Quidditch days kicked in and he was suddenly climbing higher and higher.

He glanced over to Harry who was grinning broadly and staying close by him. Draco shivered at the look in Harry's eyes and he realized what he'd done by getting on that broom. Another step towards – or was it back to? – his old life, his other life. Harry was manipulating him back to face his past and the bastard knew it too. 'You said you missed it,' Draco could just hear Harry's innocent little voice now and envision him batting his beautiful eyelashes at him. Conniving little minx. But what could he do now? He was well past the point of no return, if there ever was a point he would have been successfully able to walk away from Harry and never look back.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked.

Well, if he's going to make me go back to being a wizard, do I make it as difficult as possible or do I give in and let him have what he wants? Part of Draco wanted to give Harry everything he had ever wanted and more, but there was another part that wanted to make life as difficult as possible for Harry Potter, 'the brat who wouldn't leave him in peace'. He would give in eventually, he thought, but he was going to enjoy watching Harry struggle to convince him to do it.

"I feel like a kid again," Draco responded with a smile. "Just you and me and the snitch, remember?"

Harry laughed. "Absolutely," he agreed. "Just you and me and the snitch."

Harry's eyes glinted in the soft sunlight as he pulled a tiny golden ball from his pocket.

"I still practice," he confessed. "Want to relive our glory days?"

Draco could feel the air swirling around him and it felt like freedom, like home. He was comfortable and happy for the first time in a long time here with Harry.

"Potter," Draco quipped. "Your glory days might be over, but mine haven't even begun yet!"

Draco took off letting adrenalin flood through his body at the speed and height he travelled at on his broom. He turned, flipped, spun and nose dived to get the feel then he flew back to Harry pink in the face but exhilarated. He wanted to kiss the ex-Gryffindor; it felt like a natural reaction when his body buzzed the way it did, a kiss would intensify the buzz.

But instead he smiled and said, "You going to release that snitch, Harry?"

Draco wasn't sure what had Harry so stunned but the man had to shake himself into a relaxed state before he was able to release the ball and start their little game. They flowed around each other gracefully, swerving and ducking – just like the old days – as they chased the golden ball around the field Harry had brought them to. Harry caught it every time except once at the end where Draco suspected the Auror let him win.

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked after nearly an hour of flying.

"A bit, yeah."

"Good, lets land down there," Harry pointed towards a large tree where they could sit under its shadow.

When they landed Draco saw an elaborately set up picnic. Harry had laid out a blue and green striped blanket and some cushions and on it was a delicious spread of food; bread, ham, chicken, roast beef, salad, various cheeses, several dips, crackers, caviar, strawberries, watermelon, grapes, scones, jam, cream, honey, chocolate, fruit cake and an assortment of wizard sweets Draco hadn't seen since the last time he'd been in Honeydukes which was before he'd come of age.

"Wow," Draco said looking over the lunch Harry had prepared, he was impressed and flattered that the famed hero would go to so much trouble just for him. "You don't do things by halves do you, Potter?"

"Not when it comes to you," Harry replied casually. "And I like it better when you call me Harry."

Draco didn't respond as Harry busied himself with opening a bottle of wine. Draco suddenly started to get nervous as he took in the whole scene, including the blush blooming on Harry's cheeks (although that could be wind burn). This seemed like a rather fantastic first date and Draco hadn't agreed to a _date._ Was Potter – Harry – expecting Draco to fuck him later tonight? Would he mind if he did? He certainly wanted to that's for sure, but it didn't feel right. Harry Potter? The famous boy-hero and his life-long adversary? But when he thought about Harry as a person – just Harry, not famous, not a hero or an enemy, but as a lover and a friend – it did feel right, it felt amazing.

"Is this a date?" Draco asked dumbly and out of the blue.

Harry looked up at him in surprise with his mouth slightly open. "I don't know," he replied. "Not if you don't want it to be."

"It looks like a date and it feels like a date," Draco stated.

"Well you know what they say," Harry teased tensely, "if it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck then chances are it's a duck."

"What? A duck?" Draco said, suddenly confused by the change in topic. "I thought we were deciding if this was a date or not."

"Do you want this to be a date?"

"I don't know!" Draco whined. "I don't know if I want to date you! I mean I do! I want to date you, but I don't want to date _you_!"

"You're going to have to say that so it makes sense," Harry sighed.

Draco took a deep breath. "I want to date you – hot, funny, considerate, nice guy, but not you – famous wizard-hero."

"You can't have one without the other," Harry reminded him sadly. "But I'm sure there are some good-looking, nice guys out there if you are uncomfortable with my fame."

"I know, I've met some of them and I've never wanted them, not like I want you," Draco confessed. "But this is really weird Harry, surely you know that."

"I know it's weird!" Harry snapped.

"Then why are you doing this?" Draco asked. "The dessert the other night and now this? Why do you want me so much?"

"Because I do," Harry said uneasily, he wasn't sure what Draco was trying to say to him, but he was positive 'I'm in love with you!' might tip the scales a little too dramatically in the wrong direction.

"This is just going a bit too fast for me," Draco whispered. "I'm sorry. I just need time to get to know you again, to stop thinking of you as that annoying Gryffindork who lived to piss me off, or the teenage boy who killed the most dangerous dark wizard that ever lived."

"Why don't you think of me as the teenage boy who sat by your bed while you fought for your life, the boy who was there to hold you up at your parents funeral? Aren't I more than your rival and a hero?" Harry asked hurt shining in his eyes.

"So much more," Draco cooed. "I'm sorry; this is perfect but it's just a bit much. Maybe tone it down a little bit," he requested.

Harry nodded softly and he felt his blood rush to colour his face as he glanced around at the blanket he had set up; he was extremely embarrassed. He'd gone to all this effort, overdone it and scared Draco off. He felt foolish.

Draco could see Harry's face turned red with embarrassment and he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. This was all too sweet and he didn't want Harry to feel bad about it.

"Make up a couple of sandwiches then vanish the rest," he suggested. "Then we'll polish off all that wine."

Harry smiled and nodded feeling slightly better but still self-conscious. He did as Draco instructed and they ate and drank together for a few hours before Draco settled his head into Harry's lap and drifted off to sleep while Harry lazily played with his blonde tendrils.

Harry didn't allow himself to think about his earlier humiliation too much as he gazed at Draco's sleeping form, he just let himself enjoy the time he had with the man and reminded himself how lucky he was he didn't scare him off all together. While Draco snoozed Harry revised his 'wooing Draco' plans, deciding how best to go about repairing the damage is overenthusiastic romancing had done and by the time he was dropping Draco off that evening he knew what he had to do.

"Thanks for today," Draco said as he bid Harry farewell. "Sorry about – well, you know."

"That's okay, thanks for not completely freaking out on me," Harry replied. "Look, I've been thinking about that and this is what I think we should do, if you agree of course."

Draco nodded prompting Harry to continue.

"Let's be friends – just friends," Harry suggested. "And when – or if – you feel like you want to _then _ask me out on a date and we'll go from there. No pressure and if it never happens then we'll just be friends. What do you think?"

Draco frowned. "That's not what I meant," he said. "You've gone from one extreme to another, from overdoing it to telling me you want no control over whether or not we date!"

"I just don't want to mess up again," Harry admitted. "You know I'm keen and I'll still see you all the time, just now you won't have to wonder whether or not we're on a date because until you say so we won't be."

"Okay," Draco agreed, still not completely satisfied with the arrangement (he liked being spoiled by Harry even though it scared him a little). "I'll see you later then?"

"Definitely," Harry smiled warmly. "I'll take you to lunch next week if you like?"

"Yeah, okay," Draco nodded, feeling better already at Harry's offer. "But not a date, huh?" he teased.

"Not a date."

* * *

Okay, there you go... what did you think?

Poor Harry got a bit over excited there! How embarrassing for him! I thought his gestures were adorable but apparently Draco disagreed, I guess it was a little much…

And Callum? He's a little intense I agree, very hyperactive, but he cares… I think he just wants Draco to be happy and he knows his nature well enough to know that he needs a little encouragement.

Also I did notice the inappropriateness of Callum using the word 'freak' to describe Harry and Draco, but the meaning behind the word is different for him than it was for Petunia. He's a bit of an oddball deep down himself so he sees difference as a positive thing rather than something to be afraid of. Porbably why he's so comfortable having a gay best friend...

Anyway, reviews please lovelies!

Oh and one last thing, I'm looking for a beta and its so hard to find the right one, so many people to look through and I've given up! So I thought I would just see if anyone here was interested and thought they were up to the job. Have a read of An Unorthodox Love Story if you havent already and just make sure you are comfortable with how I do sex scenes etc. and if its all good give me a buzz! I want someone with a critical eye, not someone who is just going to fix grammatical errors. I want someone who can look deeper and think about character development etc.


	7. Bond, James Bond

Okay lovers! Here's the next exciting installment! Thank you muchly to Digitallace who took the time to beta this chappie! I love that you catch my filthy puns and get all my jokes! You must go and read her brilliance, its very much worth it!

* * *

Chapter 7: Bond, James Bond.

"Ron!" Harry called out as he strolled into his best friend's kitchen. "Can you take Rosie?"

Harry held Rosie tightly on his right hip supporting her weight with his right arm while holding her two-handled tippy cup in his left. He already thought he looked ridiculous in his tuxedo; and now that Rosie had gone and spat her milk down his front he felt even worse.

"Uh!" Rosie grunted and pointed to her cup.

Harry had confiscated it as soon as she'd spat up her milk and he was not keen to allow her any more ammunition while he was nursing her. Rosie was usually well behaved when she was allowed to snuggle into Harry – Ron always joked that Harry was her favouritefavourite person, followed by her Uncle George – but she had been upset for the last few days with her baby teeth coming through and even her 'best friend Harry' couldn't appease her.

"Ron!" Harry called again.

_Great,_ Harry thought. _I'm nervous enough as it is and now I smell like baby spit. _

"Harry, why do you have Rosie?" Hermione asked. "Where's Ron?"

"I have no idea, but she just decorated my suit with milk," he said crinkling his nose.

"Oh no!" Hermione exclaimed. "Rosie! You didn't!"

Hermione rushed over and swept Rose from Harry's arms who sighed with relief at his freedom. Hermione gently cooed at Rosie telling her she'd 'been a little bit naughty spitting up on Uncle Harry', before throwing Harry an apologetic look and taking the infant off to her nursery.

"I'm so sorry Harry," Hermione gushed once Rose was safely in her crib. "I'll fix that right up for you," she promised as she pulled out her wand.

"Hey all!" Ron greeted them. "Where's my Rose petal?"

"In her nursery," Hermione said frowning sternly. "Where did you disappear off to? Harry was left with Rosie all by himself and you know she's been upset lately. She spit milk all over Harry's suit in a little tantrum and now he's going to be late!"

"I didn't go far," Ron said defensively but slightly panicked at his wife's annoyance. "Just down to pick up some more nappies, I was only gone for 10 minutes!"

"Its fine Hermione, really," Harry reassured her. "I'm not going to be late."

Hermione worked on his shirt and jacket with her wand for about 15 minutes until it looked as though his suit had never met anyone named Rose Weasley.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione apologized again. "Are you sure you won't be late for your date?"

"It's not a date Hermione," Harry reminded her.

"Sure it's not," she replied sarcastically. "You look extremely handsome for your _non-date_, Harry, very double-oh-seven," she teased.

"When do we get to meet this guy your dating Harry?" Ron asked. "You've been seeing him for a while now, rushing off to the muggle world for lunches once a week."

"We aren't officially dating, Ron," Harry said blushing. "He wants to take things slow, _really _slow, but I like him so I guess I'll just have to put up with it."

Harry avoided Hermione's gaze as he said this, he knew she didn't like keeping Ron out of the loop about his relationship with Draco Malfoy, but at the same time she could see why he was hesitant to mention it. Ron would be upset at the very best, furious and completely unreasonable at worst, and even she could see the benefits in avoiding this conversation especially when Harry and Draco weren't even a sure thing yet. Hermione had already extracted a promise from Harry that as soon as he and Draco starting getting serious he had to tell Ron.

"Right well, does he know that Christmas is still six weeks away?" Ron asked a tad bitterly. Harry guessed Ron was put out by his reluctance to be forthcoming about his new 'friend'.

"It's not uncommon to have staff Christmas parties in November, you know that!" Hermione scolded him. "Your Christmas party is in two weeks time!"

Ron didn't say anything but Harry heard him grumble something under his breath which sounded like 'it's practically December in two weeks'; Harry just rolled his eyes.

In ten minutes Harry would have to leave to pick up Draco at his flat and escort him to his annual staff Christmas party; he was extremely nervous. He wanted to make a good impression to prove to Draco that he could be a normal boyfriend just like any other and neither his fame nor their past history should make them feel weird about it.

* * *

It had been four weeks since Harry had taken Draco flying and three weeks since Callum had managed to swing Harry an invite as Draco's date for their Christmas party. God, he loved that man, he really would have to repay the gorgeous Australian somehow, if it wasn't for Callum, Harry guessed he never would have gotten past that first day with Draco.

Harry recalled forcing himself to wait until Thursday after their flying trip to take Draco to lunch because he wanted to make sure the blonde knew he'd meant it when he'd said he would back off. Harry remembered strolling into Draco's office building at about noon to surprise him and he had bumped into Callum on the way in.

"Hey Cal," he had greeted Draco's friend. "Is, um, _Leo_ around anywhere? I thought I'd take him to lunch." Harry had to actively remember to called Draco 'Leo' when he was with Callum or at Draco's office; he hated calling him that and he tried to avoid it whenever possible.

"Sure, sure," Callum had said, nodding his head. "I'll walk you down, eh? I reckon he's in his office."

Harry had accepted Callum's offer. He remembered thinking it was unusual for Callum to escort him to Draco – he hadn't bothered last time – but he was soon grateful for the Australian's presence and was somewhat suspicious that Callum hadn't intended to swing their conversation the way he did right from the start.

After the obligatory greetings were over and Draco had accepted Harry's invitation to lunch, Callum began discussing his encounter with Angela – a girl he'd been flirting with who lived in the same building as he did – and his unsuccessful attempt to invite her to the staff Christmas party.

"Hey, maybe Harry should come!" Callum exclaimed as though the thought had just occurred to him; Draco glared at him as though he knew better than to think this was a spur of the moment suggestion.

"Harry isn't staff Cal," Draco had reminded him.

"Yeah, but you don't have a date yet," Callum retorted. "He could go with you."

"How do you know I don't have a date?" Draco challenged.

Harry remembered catching Draco's eyes briefly with his and he hoped that the stabbing feeling he felt in his heart when he thought of Draco on a date with someone else wasn't reflected in his eyes. He wondered if perhaps it was when the blonde pulled away from his gaze shamefully.

"Oh are you taking Todd then?" Callum asked casually turning his head to appreciate the swaying hips of a young woman passing them in the corridor.

_Todd!?_ Harry had never heard the name 'Todd' in his life, let alone as a possible date for Draco. His stomach tightened uncomfortably as he struggled to contain his hurt.

"Who's Todd?" he remembered blurting out.

"No one, he's no one," Draco assured him, he looked ashamed and upset that Harry now knew that there even _was_ someone named 'Todd'. "I'm not taking Todd," Draco informed Callum firmly as if to tell him to drop the subject.

"Then who are you taking?" Callum inquired, happily ignoring Draco's 'shut-up-now' glares.

"I was going to go alone," Draco admitted reluctantly.

"Take Harry then," Callum suggested brightly.

Harry had relaxed slightly at this point knowing 'Todd' was not being invited to Draco's Christmas party, but the name still rung painfully in his ears and he wondered what sort of history this mystery man had with Draco. He could only imagine and it made him feel ill to think of someone else's hands on Draco, someone else's tongue, someone else's … no he couldn't think about it, he wouldn't.

"It'll be boring," Draco replied, shaking his head lightly. "There will be staff awards and long speeches, he probably doesn't want to-"

"I'd love to!" Harry interrupted a little too enthusiastically. "As long as you aren't taking Todd…" he added with a hint of bitterness.

"I'm not," Draco assured him.

"Good then its settled!" Callum had exclaimed, pleased with his efforts.

"You don't have to-" Draco has said again to Harry.

"You don't want me to?"

"I never said that," Draco frowned.

"Who's Todd?" Harry asked, unable to keep it to himself. He was appalled by his lack of self control, he had promised Draco he would back off and now here he was acting like a jealous git. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"If I had a boyfriend don't you think I would have mentioned him by now?" Draco asked his question tinged with annoyance. "Todd is no one."

"Okay," Harry conceded. "You still want to grab some lunch?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I?" Draco snapped, still annoyed.

"No reason," Harry replied with a shrug. Draco was clearly annoyed with him and he thought the blonde might rather not make awkward conversation with him for an hour.

"Just let me drop this on Julie's desk and we'll go," he said picking up a folder and shuffling out of the room.

"So who's Todd?" Harry asked Callum, hoping the Australian would elaborate on Draco's unwavering insistence that Todd was 'no one'.

"Todd is Leo's old booty call," Callum explained with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I bumped into him on the street a few days ago and guess who's incredibly put out that Leo hasn't been to visit and has been dodging his calls lately."

Callum grinned at Harry wickedly as Harry felt both jealous that Draco had obviously had a sexual relationship with this man and excited that there was a chance Draco had broken it off for him.

"No! Really?" Harry exclaimed sounding _very_ gay.

"Yep for the last 6 weeks or so," Callum nodded. "Gee, isn't that about the same time you strolled back into Leo's life?" he added with a quick wink.

Harry recalled feeling a pleasant warmth spread through him at the idea that Draco was already being faithful to him before they had even started dating, before they had even entertained the idea that it might be a possibility.

* * *

Harry gave himself a little shake to forcefully halt his mind from reliving that day and remind himself that he was here, standing at Draco's front door in a tuxedo looking like a penguin and feeling like an idiot.

Hermione had sent him off with another James Bond reference and Ron sent him off with another not-so-subtle reminder that he expected to meet Harry's new boyfriend in the very near future.

With this in mind, he knocked at Draco's door before jumping to one side of it. When it opened he jumped out with both hands pressed together in the shape of a gun and playfully said, "Bond, James Bond!" He moved his hands, still shaped like a gun up to point at Draco who was standing in his doorway looking unimpressed. When Harry took the time to look at him his mouth fell open in surprise.

"Draco, you're _naked!_" he gasped.

"I'm not _naked_, Potter!" Draco snapped back, which was true; he wasn't naked but he was very _topless._ Harry had never seen Draco without a shirt before.

"I can't find my fucking tie!" Draco complained childishly before storming back into his flat, which looked like a tornado had just ripped through it, and proceeded to throw his belongings across the room in an attempt (Harry guessed) to find his missing tie.

"Doesn't the dinner start at seven?" Harry asked gently, wondering how the absence of his tie meant he wasn't able to wear his shirt – not that he was complaining.

"Yes!" Draco shouted, obviously still taking offence at Harry's indirect suggestion that Draco was cutting things a bit fine.

Harry thought better of responding, after all Draco was the boss, if any one could get away with being late it was him.

Draco threw another shirt across the room and huffed.

"I wish I didn't have to go tonight," he said quietly after turning to face Harry.

Harry just smiled, he was actually excited about going; he was excited about spending the evening with Draco.

"You look nice," Draco said after looking Harry up and down.

"So do you," Harry teased, letting his eyes appreciate Draco's nakedness, that is, until he saw _them_.

The scars from his Sectumsempra curse.

Harry almost felt himself lift from his body when he realized what he was looking at. He couldn't take his eyes from them, not even to glance at Draco's face to gauge his reaction at Harry's discovery. Harry felt an intense rush of emotions and none of them were pleasant; guilt, shame, disgust at himself, horror, surprise that he hadn't been expecting it, sadness, hurt and more he couldn't even identify right now. The separation he felt from his body almost made it seem surreal, like he was dreaming, and it was this sensation that had him reaching out to touch them.

"Scars," Harry whispered as his fingertips grazed along the biggest of the collection on Draco's chest.

Draco hadn't moved, he just let Harry do whatever he needed to; it was almost as though Harry had forgotten he was even there. Harry's eyes were clouded with emotion and wet with tears too stubborn to fall from his eyes just yet. Draco could see him lost in his mind, lost in his past, in his memories as his tanned and rough fingers tickled him up and down tracing each of the dull pink scars decorating his chest.

Draco watched his mesmerized expression as he absorbed these permanent reminders of that night for the first time. Draco caught Harry's hand in his own and those powerful green eyes looked through him wide and scared as they finally blinked out the tears trapped in his long eyelashes. Harry looked almost surprised to find Draco still there; it was as though he thought he was alone.

Harry didn't pull away from Draco but instead held his hand tightly and stared long and hard into Draco's his eyes.

"I used to blame you," Draco whispered. "But I don't anymore."

"I'm sorry," Harry said as tears dripped gently down his face.

"Don't," Draco replied shaking his head and wiping away the wet trail left on Harry's cheeks. "I'm pretty sure I deserved it."

Harry frowned at these words and he seemed unable to hold back his tears, even if he did manage to keep his body steady and his breathing even. Harry released Draco's cloudy eyes and let himself look again upon those harsh reminders of the violent history they shared.

"What do you think of when you look at them?" Draco asked; he could see Harry was lost somewhere in his mind and he was desperate to know where.

"That whole time," Harry told Draco sadly. "Being young and scared, wondering if I was going to survive this battle I was supposed to win. I was only a kid and the world was expecting me to save them from a wizard no one else had managed to beat."

Draco felt his heart clench as he realized he was getting a rare glimpse into Harry's past. He had never thought what it must have been like for Harry; he had his own problems after all.

"I never allowed myself to think beyond my final battle with Voldemort," Harry continued, he had stopped crying now but he was gripping Draco's hand tighter than before. "It was almost as though I didn't expect to have a future afterwards. I think I had already decided I was going to die, I mean considering what I was facing, what seventeen year old kid could expect to live through that? All I knew was that when I died I would be taking that son of a bitch with me."

Draco nodded, he knew that feeling well, wondering whether or not you would ever see your twenties, ever have children or get married; near the end he became certain he would be killed as well.

"I also think of you," Harry continued, answering Draco's question far more thoroughly than he ever thought he would. "I remember throwing that curse at you. I didn't even know what it did!" he exclaimed angrily, "and I didn't care. I just wanted to hurt you."

Draco pulled Harry in closer to him as he felt the man start to shake.

"I can still remember so clearly what it felt like to hate you, what it felt like to want to hurt you." Harry confessed brokenly.

"Me too," Draco whispered softly. "Me too."

"As soon as I saw the blood I knew I'd gone too far," Harry continued. "God, there was so much blood."

Harry paused and Draco could see in his face the Gryffindor was experiencing that night all over again.

"I thought I'd killed you," he said as he pressed himself into Draco's skin.

"I know, I remember," Draco told him, his tone of voice was comforting, forgiving Harry without having to say it out loud. "We all did things we're not proud of," he continued. "But at the end of the day you won and we lived – the hero," Draco said pointing to Harry, "and the villain," he finished, pointing at himself.

"No," Harry protested genuinely distressed at Draco's suggestion at he was in any way a 'bad guy'.

"I will always be the villain, Harry," Draco assured him quietly. "That's why I live here as a muggle – exiled – it's my punishment. I dabbled too much on both sides and now I don't belong anywhere."

"No, you were cleared of all charges," Harry reminded him. "You were only a kid, Draco!"

"So were you!" Draco snapped back. "And you saved us all!"

"It's not your fault," Harry stated firmly, he was no longer shaking or crying; he was determined. "And you _do_ belong somewhere," he said staring deep into Draco's eyes; that stare induced a different reaction in Draco's body as he saw the lust in those stunning green eyes.

Draco let himself go as he leaned into Harry; their warm breath mixed together heating the air between them making them feel more flushed.

"You belong with me," Harry whispered sensually as he let his right hand slide down Draco's bare waist and rest on his hip while his left gently guided Draco towards him by his shoulder.

Harry could almost feel Draco's moist lips against his when the blonde suddenly pulled back and coughed awkwardly. He removed himself completely from Harry's embrace and put at least three steps of distance between them.

"I have to get dressed. We – we'll be, um, we'll be late," Draco stuttered.

Harry couldn't help but feel bitterly disappointed at being denied a kiss when they'd come so close. Then again, Draco was very obviously flustered and blushing while he suspiciously shifted around his pants, perhaps things were looking up after all.

"Yeah alright," Harry smirked. "You get dressed while I find your fucking tie."

* * *

Draco was unsettled by how quickly Harry had managed to undo him. Was that really all it took? Some deep confessions and a place to belong?

Draco had several responsibilities throughout the night – which is why he had originally decided to go alone – and they weren't often together, but Draco barely let Harry leave his sight. He watched the raven-haired man all night as he chatted to his colleagues and charmed them all, too many times he had people coming up to him saying 'Oh Leo! You're boyfriend is lovely!' The first few times he corrected them saying Harry was not his boyfriend, he was just a friend, until he saw Harry talking to Adrian Mosley, the painfully good looking accountant he'd hired and slept with more than once. After he spied their flirtatious behaviour Draco was loudly agreeing with people when they said how charming and attractive his new 'boyfriend' was, 'yes, he is, isn't he!' he would say. Not that Adrian seemed to care, it took a possessive arm around Harry's waist and a few well worded comments to pry Draco's ex off Harry.

Harry loved every second of it and made a mental note to flirt with attractive men more often, it seemed to give Draco a necessary shove in the 'relationship' direction which is exactly what Harry wanted.

By the end of the night, Draco was more confused than ever.

_Was this man perfect?_ He wondered. _Was there _anything_ wrong with him at all? And if not, what the hell did such a man want with _him_ of all people? Surely he could have any man he wanted. Of course he could, he was _Harry Potter_!_

* * *

As Harry walked Draco to his door – ever the gentleman – he paused, painfully aware that this was not a _real_ date. He wished he could kiss Draco goodnight and if Harry wasn't mistaken, it looked as though Draco wished Harry would kiss him goodnight as well.

Harry thought again of the scars on Draco's chest, they had been lingering in his mind all night. He couldn't shake the sick feeling he felt when he reminded himself that he had hurt this man, the man he loved. Those scars were a daily reminder to Draco and for the first time Harry wondered whether or not that constant reminder was part of the reason Draco was so hesitant to start a relationship; proof that at one point in time Harry hated him enough to kill him.

"What do you think of when you look at them?" Harry asked, phrasing the question as Draco had hours before so he would know Harry was referring to his scars.

"I think of you," Draco replied with a shy smile.

Harry cringed. "I don't want you to remember me that way," he said feeling the hurt he felt looking at them for the first time all over again.

"No, not like that," Draco reassured him, taking Harry's hand gently in his. "When I look at them I think of the kind of person you are, the kind of person I should have been back then – the person I want to be now."

"Someone who almost killed you!?" Harry accused horrified.

"No, someone who would have died to save us all, even me," Draco corrected him. "You would have died to save me from myself, from my family."

Harry didn't respond, he didn't know what to say.

"Don't you understand?" Draco asked ashamedly. "That's why I left. You were stubbornly watching me – protecting me – and _I_ needed to face the consequences of the choices I made, the choices my family made. I didn't want to drag you into it and get you killed too. I don't want to be that coward Draco Malfoy anymore or ever again. I want to be a good person; I want to be brave – like you."

_For you__, _Draco thought silently.

Draco looked at Harry and saw exactly what he wanted. Who was he to question why someone as wonderful as Harry wanted him? He should just be grateful that he did.

Draco smiled at Harry and pulled him in close with both hands on either side of his waist. He leaned in slowly and gently pressed their lips together, it felt amazing. Harry snaked his arms around Draco's neck and tasted him tenderly with careful licks. Draco responded with a moan and parted his lips to let Harry have anything he wanted from his mouth; Harry took it as he lapped at Draco's tongue with his own and pressed their bodies together.

Draco groaned again and grabbed Harry by the arse pulling his groin up and into Draco's letting both their erections brush against each other in the most lightly erotic way.

"Mmm," Draco moaned at this action. "Just wait," he said pulling away and turning to his door.

Harry tried to slow his breathing once Draco had stepped back; they had both crossed boundaries tonight as the kiss turned into something more and Harry needed to rein in his hormones or he was going to lose himself in Draco and ruin the progress he'd made by rushing him.

Harry glanced around the corridor, trying to distract himself from imagining how sexy Draco looked under that suit he wore, when he noticed Draco's elderly neighbour frowning at him disapprovingly from her doorway. Harry stifled a laugh and sent her a seductive wink; she disappeared back into her flat almost immediately.

Having successfully unlocked his flat, Draco swung open his front door and wasted no time pulling Harry into another searing kiss as he dragged him into the privacy of his apartment. Harry was briefly overwhelmed at the affect Draco had on him and the blonde had his jacket off and half of his shirt buttons undone before he even knew what was happening.

"Draco, wait!" Harry shouted as soon as his mind alerted him to the situation. His cock protested Harry's objection by pushing against his pants, aching to be touched, but Harry knew he had to stop this now. "Isn't this too quick? I mean a few weeks ago I overdid it with a picnic and now you're ready for this? It doesn't make sense."

"I've wanted to fuck you since I saw you flirting with that slut of a bartender at Callum's birthday," Draco panted still flushed and trying to grab at Harry's half open shirt.

"We haven't even been on an official date yet?" Harry complained. "I mean does this make me your boyfriend?"

Draco groaned. God, Harry could be _such_ a girl. Yes, Draco wanted him. Yes, he wanted more than just sex, he wanted Harry for himself; a relationship. Wasn't that enough? Why did the prat need him _say_ it?

"You want me to take you on a date first?" Draco asked. "I pretty much did tonight, just because I didn't specify at the _start_ you're telling me it doesn't count?"

Draco went to grab at Harry again who playfully jumped out of his reach.

"O wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" Draco said quoting Shakespeare's Romeo.

"Absolutely," Harry replied, not being familiar with the play himself he missed the reference. "I hardly saw you all night; I shudder to think that you would consider that a proper first date."

"Okay, fine," Draco sighed, displaying his displeasure in a very kissable pout. "I'll take you on a proper date next weekend."

"Boy, you really do know how to sweep a man off his feet, Draco Malfoy!" Harry gushed dramatically, fanning himself extravagantly with his hand.

"My God, what am I getting myself into?" Draco asked. "You are extremely high maintenance aren't you?"

Harry just grinned. Was it too much to ask that the man you love _ask_ you on a date and not just begrudgingly agree just to get laid? Harry didn't think so.

"Harry, will you let me spoil the crap out of you next Saturday night on our first official date?" Draco asked as he gently did up Harry's shirt buttons.

"Who am I to refuse an offer like that?" Harry smiled sweetly and pecked Draco on the lips.

"Good, now get going," Draco ordered, playfully smacking Harry on the bum. "I either need to have a cold shower or do some self maintenance because I have a little – I mean _big_," Draco winked at this, "situation going on downstairs which you are only making worse."

Harry laughed and wondered for a second if he shouldn't just give in and stay.

"I vote self maintenance," he suggested. "A little Harry fantasy wouldn't go astray."

Draco just rolled his eyes as he walked Harry to the door.

"Owl me tomorrow, okay?" Draco requested.

Harry nodded and started off down the corridor thinking he would need to do some self maintenance as well that night.

"Oh, and Harry," Draco called after him. "You looked hot tonight; James Bond has nothing on you!"

* * *

OKay, review review review! What did you think?

I dont think a little Harry fantasy ever goes astray! Or a Draco fantasy either which I'm sure Harry will indulge in once he gets home.

Was the scar thing too sappy and emotional?

Don't forget to tune in next time! Things get a little exciting next chapter!

Review.

And visit Digitallace's stories her talents must be enjoyed by all! Tell your friends and have them tell their friends! Go now! (and mention my brilliance too while you're at it lol.) God, I'm so modest! haha!


	8. Where did these two come from?

Hello everyone! Sorry for my extreme neglect in this story, but I hope it was worth the wait! Many thanks to Alexis my brilliant beta who managed to repair the damage I did while I was writing this chapter tired! She writes under Digitallace so if you havent yet, go read her stuff its fantabulous!

Anyway on to the main event! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 8: Where did these two come from?

* * *

Draco woke up late on Sunday morning following his Christmas party and after a glorious stretch he indulged himself with another Harry fantasy and a little more 'self maintenance' which was required after waking from a rather vivid, and rather erotic, dream about his favourite boy hero. Afterwards he spent a few hours at the gym followed by a steaming hot bath, some pasta from the Italian restaurant down the street and a movie. All in all it was one of the best days he'd had in years.

The funny thing was his activities for the day weren't that different to how he usually spent his Sundays; a morning wank, gym, shower, food and a bit of television. What _was_ different, what made this day one of the best he could remember, was how he _felt_. He felt amazing, he felt light and free and actually _happy!_

_Harry._ God, he couldn't stop smiling whenever he thought about him.

Was this what it felt like to fall in love? If so _why_ had no one told him about this before!? He should have fallen for Harry _years _ago!

The glow he felt from his incredible Sunday stretched into Monday and when he walked into work he felt like he was breathing new air. Clean air. Happy air. Today was going to be another good day and Draco decided he was _not_ going to let anything ruin it.

* * *

Callum noticed Draco's blissful state immediately. He stood taller and smiled wider; he seemed so relaxed that if Callum didn't know any better he would have thought his friend had gotten some over the weekend…

"That dirty _dog!_" Callum said to himself under his breath while trying to suppress his grin. "I bet he and Harry got their freak on after the Christmas party!"

Callum cleared his throat and swaggered on over to greet Draco.

"Morning, Boss!" he said cheerily. "You look like you've had a good weekend," he observed wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not today," Draco told him quickly. "I don't want to see you today, Cal."

Callum was not put off by Draco's dismissal in the least. "Did Harry not go home after the Christmas party then?"

"I'm not playing this with you this morning," Draco stated firmly.

"Playing what?" Callum asked batting his eyelashes overdramatically.

Callum knew very well what Draco was talking about; they played this game every time Harry was brought up in a conversation, usually by Callum. Draco would resist, Callum would push him anyway and eventually Draco would give in and update Callum in a huffy tone of voice on the state of his relationship with Harry.

"I'm not playing along with the banter you enjoy so much whenever you bring up Harry," Draco huffed. "Not today, I don't want to see you at all today, understand?"

"That's a bit rough, don't you think?" Callum replied sounding a little hurt. "Besides, I missed out this weekend and, surely, as my _best friend_ you would at least want to rub it in that you got laid and I didn't!"

"Cal, you are going to turn around and go back to your office right now or in five seconds I am going to decide that the Murphy account needs to be completely reworked and that happy job will fall to you," Draco threatened with a sweet smile.

Callum's mouth fell open. "You wouldn't…" he gasped.

Draco just continued to smile innocently. "Five – four – three –" he counted.

"Alright, alright! I'm going!" Callum snapped sounding annoyed and raising both of his hands in surrender.

Draco smiled satisfied that he had won that round; Callum had beaten him so many times before that he didn't even feel slightly guilty at annoying his friend. Callum seemed to annoy him guilt free all the time and now he knew why; it was bloody funny!

* * *

An hour later Callum knocked on Draco's office door for another round it seemed.

Draco grinned broadly; this was fun.

"Hey Leo, I was looking at that new account we picked up and-" Callum said gesturing to the fat file in his hands, but Draco had quickly interrupted him.

"Five – four –" he counted again with a gleeful look on his face.

"What!? Not even work stuff?" Callum protested.

"Three – two –"

"Alright!" Callum snapped before leaving Draco alone in his office, slamming the door behind him loudly.

"And he thinks he can run a business like this!?" Callum muttered to himself as he stalked grumpily back to his own desk.

* * *

As Callum's wristwatch ticked over to 12 o'clock he saw Harry step out of the elevator and smiled with satisfaction. He knew very well from the childish delight on his friends face that despite his words to the contrary Draco was indeed playing a game with him; this one was just a new game.

_New game, new rules,_ Callum thought as he approached Harry at the front receptionist's desk.

"Finally! Somebody normal! Come in and have a drink with me for a minute," Callum said to Harry with a smile.

"Uh, okay," Harry stuttered as he was forcibly led into Callum's office; he swept the room with his eyes looking for Draco hoping to be rescued.

"Sometimes I think Leo must be a psychiatric fugitive, you know, like he escaped Nurse Ratched, but not before she lobotomized him," Callum said with a laugh. "Well, until you showed up anyway. He's a brand new Leo now."

"What?" Harry asked confused at what the excitable Australian had just said. "Who's Nurse Ratched?"

"Never mind," Callum replied rolling his eyes.

_Where did these two come from? The underside of a rock? Harry is just as uncultured as Leo was when I first met him! _Callum thought to himself.

"Leo's just been a bit of a prick today that's all," he shrugged. "He won't even talk to me about work stuff, I had to get my assistant to have him look over that new mining company we picked up – oh never mind, you don't need to hear all this!"

Harry frowned looking concerned. "Why is he being a prick? What happened?" he asked.

"I'm guessing _you_ happened!" Callum teased. "He's been walking around like he swung by the maternity ward for a dose of happy gas on his way to work this morning and I dared to ask him about it… Can I dare to ask _you_ about it?"

"Not if he doesn't want you to know! Why are you so _nosy_?" Harry asked, half-jokingly.

"I'm not nosy! I just care that's all!" Callum huffed trying to sound offended; Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Look Leo's had it rough, I can tell," Callum said seriously. "I might not know _exactly _what happened – I'm guessing you do though…?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged not wanting to tell Callum anything Draco didn't want him to know.

"Well even the fact he won't talk about it is proof in itself that he's had a bit of a shit time of it," Callum said pouring them both another whiskey. "I can tell anyway, he acts like my Grandfather with less OCD behaviours. If I had to make an uneducated guess I'd say he had Post-Traumatic Stress or something."

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked suddenly worried about his new boyfriend.

"Well he doesn't sleep enough and he works himself into the ground, so I'm guessing he has insomnia or nightmares," Callum said counting the list of Draco's PSTD symptoms on his fingers. "He's really jumpy, like he thinks something's going to attack him at any moment. I noticed it when I first meet him but he settled down after a while, when we got to London though it started up again worse than I remember."

Harry cringed. He hated hearing that Draco wasn't coping, he just wanted to steal his blonde deity away and protect him from the rest of the world.

"He's got these weird 'quirks' I guess you'd call them," Callum continued. "He hates green and red flashing lights which is weird. He's funny about magicians and anything supernatural, he won't watch movies or TV shows with anything like that in it. He wouldn't even come and see Siegfried and Roy with me and Jared when we were in Vegas years ago and once when Lindsay –Jared's wife – was telling us all about how she went to see a psychic he left the room all twitchy."

"Really?" Harry replied anxiously.

"Yeah, but he's relaxed heaps since you showed up," Callum reassured him with a smile. "That's why I'm so keen for you two to sort out your shit and get together! He actually watched Underworld with me last week! I mean even a gay man can appreciate Kate Beckinsale in skin tight leather, am I right? He laughed the _whole _way through about how unrealistic it was! He was talking like he'd actually _seen _a werewolf or a vampire before!"

"Really?" Harry said again, but this time his tone carried a hint of amusement.

"Yeah, so he's still a freak," Callum shrugged throwing Harry a playful grin, "just a happier more relaxed version of his usual freaky self. Actually, now that I think about it, why am I friends with such a weirdo? More trouble than he's worth I reckon," he quipped.

Harry laughed at this and swallowed the rest of his whiskey. _Sometimes I think the same thing, _he thought with amusement.

Harry jumped with fright as Draco unexpectedly crashed through the door of Callum's office. "Callum _what _are you doing with Harry?" he demanded, clearly annoyed.

Callum just smirked calmly, unfazed by Draco's intimidating glare. "Wondering why I put up with all your shit?" he shrugged.

"Because I bought you a motorbike for your birthday," Draco replied smugly and crossing his arms.

"Oh yeah," Callum sighed with pleasure; his eyes glossed over and his mind was obviously with his motorbike, wherever it was. "Man, that bike is _gorgeous!_" he said dreamily.

Harry just looked on; he was in awe at the relationship these two young men shared and he felt a confusing mixture of amusement at their quirky relationship and jealousy that Callum seemed to know Draco in ways he never would.

"Everything alright, Harry?" Draco asked.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts with a grunt, his mind must have wandered off because Draco was looking at him with concern.

"Yeah fine," Harry smiled. "I just thought I'd see if you wanted to go to lunch."

"Oh well okay," Draco agreed apprehensively.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Harry said sincerely.

"No, no, I want to," Draco corrected him quickly. "I just thought we were waiting until Saturday to go out."

"We are," Harry smiled. "I take you to lunch all the time and they've never been dates, that doesn't have to change because we've decided to start dating does it? Saturday will still be our first."

"Dating?!" Callum said with a smug grin. "You guys are dating now?"

"Well, we haven't yet, on Saturday-" Draco began to say nervously. Harry's presence was giving him butterflies and he felt a blush burn on his cheeks.

"Oh _man!_ That's fucking awesome!" Callum laughed. "Ha! I knew you two hooked up after the Christmas party! I'm a bit hurt you didn't want to share though, Leo," he added sincerely.

"I know," Draco nodded, looking a bit guilty. "I haven't told anyone, I just wanted this to be mine for a while."

Callum nodded and smiled to show he understood. This union had been a long time coming for both boys it seemed and he knew this would make them both happy so he couldn't begrudge them their secret.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Okay, drinks all around!"

Callum pulled out a third glass for Draco and went to pour himself and Harry their third whiskey of the day.

"Callum, I don't think we should, it's only just noon now-" Draco protested.

"I'll take one."

"Harry!" Draco reprimanded him with a stern look.

"Actually on second thought…" Harry said shaking his head at Callum and placing his hand over the top of the glass.

Callum poured himself one and raised his glass to toast his friends' new relationship. "To Harry being whipped already!" he stated with a grin and swallowed his whiskey in one gulp.

Harry blushed.

Draco rolled his eyes.

And all three went out to lunch.

* * *

"I can't get over how you order your food here," Harry sighed, shaking his head over the matter again.

After several lunches at Draco's favourite Chinese restaurant – the one they had eaten at the first day he'd run into Draco – he had eventually figured out Draco's ordering pattern and he still couldn't believe it.

"It's logical to me," Draco replied. "Since when has your mood _not_ dictated the food you eat?"

"Yes but you tell the waiter what mood you are in and he knows what you want," Harry reminded him. "That's not normal."

"Jimmy takes good care of me here, don't you?" Draco said smiling as Jimmy the waiter placed Draco's 'happy' lunch in front of him; his favourite, Cashew Beef with Vegetables.

Harry huffed displeased with the idea of anyone but him taking care of Draco in _any _way. He knew he only felt this way because their relationship was new, once he settled into a rhythm with Draco and was able to claim part of his life as his own he knew he would stop feeling so jealous. But for now he felt like everyone in Draco's life was one up on him and it wasn't right, he was Draco's _boyfriend _after all.

Lunch was amusing watching Draco and Callum rile each other up, but mostly uneventful. They all ate until they felt over full as the servings were large and the food was delicious and left swearing never to eat so much again.

It wasn't until they were out on the street walking back to the office building that things really started to get interesting. Harry who was always subconsciously in Auror mode caught a glimpse of a strange looking man, well strange for a muggle which usually meant they were a wizard. Harry paused to get a better look and his heart skipped a beat; the man was short and plump, he looked like he hadn't showered in a month and he wore mismatched clothes with pants that were too big and a shirt that was too small.

Amycus Carrow. He was sure of it.

If Amycus was here, he was sure his sister Alecto wouldn't be far off; she was the brains of their operation.

"Get in that shop Draco! Now!" Harry whispered harshly.

He casually ushered Draco and Callum into the store closest to them trying not to draw attention; it was a pharmacy. Once they were inside he pushed them to the back of the store.

"Duck behind those shelves and _stay_," he instructed them.

Draco did as he was told without hesitation; his face was pale and he looked slightly grey. Callum, however, protested.

"What the _hell_!?" he snapped as Harry roughly shoved him to the floor by his shoulder.

"Look after him," Harry instructed Callum nodding at Draco.

Callum's mouth fell open and his eyes widened as he saw for the first time how sick Draco was looking. He was just staring not knowing what to do or say, he was so confused about what was happening.

Harry raced back to the street where he saw Amycus, but he was no where to be seen. There were too many muggles on the street right then anyway, there was no way Harry would get away with starting a duel with hundreds of muggles looking on. He ducked back into the Pharmacy and approached the desk to inquire about a back exit; there were none.

Harry was furious at how trapped he felt with Amycus and possible Alecto hidden outside and no back exit. He didn't know if they'd been seen coming into the store or not, it wouldn't have taken much to glance over and notice Harry Potter shoving Draco Malfoy, who's blonde hair was like a neon sign, and a confused looking muggle into a Pharmacy.

"No back exit!? What the fuck do you people do if there's a fire!?" he snapped in frustration even though he knew it was a bad move. "Do you all just burn to death!?"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the girl instructed him trying to sound confident but coming off terrified.

"I know, I'll leave, just give me a minute please?" he requested. "We're being followed and I'm just trying to lose them, we'll leave shortly I promise."

Harry made his way back to Draco and Callum who were still crouched down behind the hair products shelf; Draco still looked grey and sickly and Callum just stared at him looking concerned.

"Are you okay, Draco?" Harry asked, completely forgetting that around Callum he was supposed to call him Leo.

Draco nodded vacantly.

"Hey!" Harry barked, clicking his fingers in Draco's face. "You need to snap out of this! I need you alert okay?"

Draco jumped in surprise at Harry's demand and seemed to shake himself out of his daze. "Who was it?" he asked shakily.

"Amycus," Harry stated.

Draco nodded. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive," Harry nodded.

Callum looked desperate to ask for more details about what was happening but he pressed his lips together as though he knew better than to ask _now. _

"There's no back exit and I can't see him out the front but that doesn't mean he's not there, especially if he saw us come in here which he may have," Harry explained. "I want to Apparate you out," he said firmly knowing Draco would object because Callum was present.

"No."

"Draco please," Harry whined. "Be reasonable. They won't touch Callum and you know it."

"If they saw us together they will," Draco reasoned. "I'm not leaving him."

"Then I'll Apparate with him too," Harry offered even though he knew he couldn't.

Apparating was scary and dangerous enough the first time for wizards, for a muggle who knew nothing of magic it could be downright traumatic, not to mention potentially deadly.

"That's not an option and _you_ know it," Draco replied using Harry's words against him.

"Shit," Harry muttered to himself. "Okay, we need help."

He pulled out his wand and pressed the tip to his Auror mark alerting Kingsley, his boss, and Ron, his partner, of his mayday call.

"They'll be here soon," Harry said trying to reassure Draco. "You're going to be fine."

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Draco whimpered. "I feel so useless, so vulnerable. I gave up my magic and now I can't protect myself."

"Shh," Harry cooed pulling Draco into a hug. "It's not your fault and I'll protect you don't worry, I promise."

"You shouldn't have to," Draco sighed. "I should be able to do it myself. I'm so stupid."

"You aren't stupid," Harry said reprimanding him. "Thank God," Harry sighed as he felt his arm tingle signaling the arrival of his backup. He ran to the front of the shop to meet them and threw an apologetic look at the girl behind the counter.

Ron met him first and Harry remembered with a jolt that Ron knew nothing about his relationship with Draco. _Fuck._ This was not going to go down well.

"Hey, mate," Harry greeted him. "I just sighted Amycus Carrow out on the street about five minutes ago, no sign of him now but chances are he's hanging around this area."

"What makes you say that?" Ron asked quickly.

"I'll explain everything later, but the short version is that Draco Malfoy works in this area and I have reason to believe the Carrows are still after him for helping me during the war," Harry explained.

Ron frowned. "Okay, you take this end of the block and I'll take that end," Ron suggested. "Lewis and Jenkins can sweep back that way," Ron continued pointing towards the block of buildings opposite them.

"I can't go with you," Harry said guiltily. "Malfoy is here at the back of the store. I have to get him back to my place where he'll be safe."

"He's here?" Ron asked sounding confused as he glanced to the back of the store; Draco was still out of sight behind the shelves.

"I'll explain everything later, I promise," Harry replied shortly, hoping Ron would be placated for now. "You and Jenkins can sweep the area and I want Lewis to escort Draco back to my place with me."

"Draco!?" Ron asked starting to sound hostile at Harry's use of their enemy's first name. "Why Lewis? Why not me?"

Harry sighed.

It was true, he was keeping Ron away from Draco on purpose but he had hoped the redhead would wait to challenge him about it once the search was over and Draco was safe. Annabel Lewis, a fellow Auror, didn't have an unpleasant history with Draco like Ron did and she didn't have to worry that her best friend was likely sleeping with the enemy as Ron would if he saw them together. Harry wanted to explain things properly and let Ron scream himself hoarse before he let Draco anywhere near him.

"Please Ron, let's fight about this later," Harry begged, he really didn't want to pull rank on him right now, it would only make the situation worse, but he would if he had to.

Ron just nodded and stalked off to relay orders and comb the block for Amycus and Alecto Carrow.

Harry moved to the back of the store to collect Draco and Callum. He introduced Annabel and they walked warily back to Harry's flat with Harry in the lead, Draco behind him, Callum behind Draco and Annabel bringing up the rear. The two Aurors had their wands out and they were on guard the entire trip; Harry could not have been more relieved to arrive at his flat if he wanted to. He thanked Annabel and sent her back to the Ministry to inform Kingsley he would write a full incident report and have it on his desk first thing in the morning.

The second she was gone he rushed over to Draco and held him close, finally letting himself relax. "All okay?" he whispered.

Harry felt Draco shake his head. "My life is over now that they've found me," he replied his voice cracking with emotion as he tried not to cry.

"It's not over, I won't let them hurt you," Harry stated.

"I know you won't!" Draco snapped. "I didn't mean that! I meant my life! My muggle life! They know where I work, probably where I live, _everything!_"

Harry sighed. "I don't know what to say," he admitted knowing Draco was probably right but wanting to tell him he was wrong. "Let's worry about that later. For now you should just-"

"ARRRGH!" Harry was interrupted by a piercing scream from his living room.

He rushed in to find Callum standing on his couch practically climbing the back of it to get away from a rather confused looking Kreacher.

"Ahhh! Oh my God!" he whimpered as he stood shaking with terror at the small elf.

"Kreacher wonders why he is being screamed at, Master Harry," Kreacher croaked giving Harry a confused look.

"Kreacher could you please give us some privacy for a few hours?" Harry asked politely.

"Of course, Master Harry," Kreacher replied bowing low at Harry. "Kreacher can polish his treasurers again!"

Harry winced as the house-elf popped out of the room with a loud crack sending Callum into a fresh wave of hysteria. Harry glanced at Draco for help as he was unsure of how to approach Callum in this state, but the blonde was just shaking his head with his face concealed completely by his hands.

Harry pulled out his wand and Stunned Callum, who was now jumping on Harry's dining room table, into silence so that he could confer with Draco as to how best to manage their friend. Apparently, this was a bad idea.

"What the fuck did you do that for!?" Draco demanded instantly outraged at Harry's use of magic on his friend. "Undo it _now!_"

"He was about to break my table!"

"Undo it, Harry! He's my friend! You've got no right to do that to him!"

"Alright, okay! But you have to calm him down enough to listen to us," Harry reasoned. "We'll convince him he hit his head or something and that he never saw Kreacher."

"Fine," Draco agreed.

Harry took out his wand feeling a bit put out at being told off and undid his spell, "_Enervate!_" he said.

"Callum, are you alright?" Draco asked carefully.

"What the _fuck_ happened?" he asked fearfully. "What the hell was that thing?"

"Nothing, Callum, you fell and hit your head," Harry lied.

"My head feels fine," Callum retorted narrowing his eyes. "I think there's something going on here. All that shit back at that Pharmacy! He called you Draco," he said looking at Draco, "and you said you were magic!"

"Well, I-" Draco stuttered.

"No, you said you _used_ to be magic!" Callum corrected himself. "And then that _thing_, that monster looking thing was in here! What the fuck is happening here?"

"Nothing!" Harry replied unconvincingly.

"Don't fucking lie to me Harry! I'm fucking sick of it!" Callum shouted.

"I'M A WIZARD!" Draco shouted, trying to let his voice be heard over Callum's screaming rant.

Callum stopped yelling immediately and after staring at Draco blankly for a few seconds his face cracked into a broad grin and he started laughing hysterically.

"What?" Draco asked a little put out. He put his hands on his hips and huffed. "What's so funny? You think I couldn't be a wizard?"

Callum opened his mouth to try to say something but nothing came out, just more uncontrollable laughter.

"Shut up! I _am_ a wizard!" Draco snapped as he started to get angry.

"Draco maybe its best to just erase this from his mind," Harry suggested as he looked concerned at Callum's manic behaviour.

"Don't you _dare_," Draco hissed. He was very protective of his friend and didn't like him being influenced by magic.

"Then I'm out of ideas," Harry shrugged.

"You'll have to prove it Harry," Draco told him. "Do a spell."

"You're a – a w-w-wizard too then?" Callum asked still cracking up with laughter. He thought this was all a big joke, the _best_ prank anyone had ever played on him. "Oh God, Leo! This is fucking GOLD! Wait till I tell Jared! So good!"

"It's true!" Draco huffed. "Do a spell, Harry! Prove it to him!"

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Harry asked.

"It doesn't matter!" Draco snapped. "Just do it!"

"Okay!" Harry conceded. He pointed his wand at the chair next to Callum. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" he said with a swish and a flick of his wand.

The chair floated gently in the air higher and higher. Callum stopped laughing immediately and watched in awe.

"Fucking hell," he breathed.

Draco crossed his arms and stared at his muggle friend smugly. "Told you," he said, not able to resist rubbing it in.

Harry lowered the chair back down to the ground and Callum continued to stare at it. Eventually he moved over to it and touched it lightly then harder before eventually pushing it over so it toppled to the ground.

"Do something else," he requested quietly; he was still feeling a mixture of shock and awe at what he'd just seen, but so many things about his odd friend started to make sense.

Harry obliged him, demonstrating the summoning charm and transfiguring Callum's pen into a cup and then a marble.

"Whoa," Callum sighed after he was satisfied they were telling the truth. "I think you boys have some explaining to do."

Draco nodded. "I want to tell him everything, Harry," he told the other wizard.

"Everything? Are you sure?" Harry asked looking concerned.

"He's my family now," Draco replied sincerely. "I want him to know everything even if he hates me for it."

"He won't hate you," Harry assured him. "Alright, we'll tell him everything, but first we'll need drinks. This is going to be a long story."

Callum nodded eagerly at the offer of drinks. He was nervous about finally finding out about Draco's past and while he knew he wouldn't be happy until he heard the whole story, part of him still thought he was probably better off not knowing.

Harry handed him a glass with a small amount of amber liquid in the bottom. "Have a go at that Callum, it's called Firewhiskey, you're gonna love it!" he said with a grin as he swallowed his down.

Callum took a deep breath, gulped down his Firewhiskey and braced himself to hear a story that would change his life forever.

* * *

Once again, this story has a rather flexible plot going in my head so any suggestions you have are welcome! Tune in next week for the next exciting installment!

Dont forget to review!

(Side note: The final chapter of my other story 'An Unorthodox Love Story' will be posted in the next few days so keep your eye out for it!)


	9. I know

I know, its been a while and I sincerely apologise, but here is my proof that I am so not finished with this story and there is much much more to come!

Many thanks to Digitallace who betaed this for me, she is a gem :D

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 9: I know

It was the middle of the night and they had all gone to bed hours before. Harry and Draco had very carefully explained their story to Callum and patiently answered all of his questions. Callum, while being impulsive and often annoying, was actually extremely intelligent and he accepted and understood the larger concepts of magic fairly quickly and the two wizards never had to explain anything twice. It was well past dinnertime when the three of them finally exhausted that topic of conversation and ordered in some Indian food.

While they ate Callum stared at Draco with a serious looking frown. He couldn't seem to connect the actions the two other men had described Draco as doing with the good-natured, understanding – if impatient – blonde he had known for the last decade.

"You don't need to imagine it," Harry had informed him when he had confessed the reason behind his worried look. "It's in the past and it's not who he is now."

Draco's insides had suddenly felt all floppy at hearing these words from Harry.

His insides weren't feeling floppy now though, they were feeling tense. He was standing outside Harry's bedroom door in the dark just staring at it wondering if he should go in.

"You can't stand there all night," Callum groaned sleepily from the couch. "Just go in, Man. Don't worry about me, I'll block my ears."

"He doesn't want to," Draco whispered back. "We haven't done it yet; he wants to wait until we've at least been on a proper date."

"I thought you guys fucked after the Christmas party!" Callum exclaimed, suddenly wide awake from Draco's confession.

"We did not!" Draco hissed and pouted as he made his way back to the bed Harry had transfigured for him – Callum had been more comfortable just sleeping on the couch; magic still made him a little nervous. "He worked me up good though, I had to wank like four times after he'd left!"

Callum cackled at hearing this. "I bet the last one hurt coming out," he teased.

"Shut up," Draco admonished him sounding embarrassed. "It did not, I'm not stupid I spaced them out."

Callum just laughed harder.

* * *

"Will he be alright, do you think?" Draco asked Harry worriedly late the next afternoon. Callum had stayed all of the next day curiously inspecting many of Harry's magical household items, but he had refused to stay another night; he wanted to be back in his own flat and seriously doubted that the brief glimpse these 'evil wizards' had of him would lead them anywhere.

Draco had argued with him furiously, stating that they didn't know _what_ the Carrows knew about him now; they could have been watching him for weeks, or even months. They could know where he lived and worked, who his friends were … anything. Callum just shook his head and told them they couldn't keep him and he was going home.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Draco," Harry assured him, caressing the length of his arm. "Kingsley has some of the best Aurors watching over him."

Draco sighed. "Okay. When will _I_ be able to go home?"

"Not until I have them," Harry stated firmly.

"Well, how long is that?" Draco asked, starting to feel alarmed about just how long he was going to be shut out of his life.

"I don't know," Harry replied evasively.

"Guess," Draco ordered.

"Look, its best you don't think about it," Harry suggested. "Just think of _this_ as your home now."

"You can't pull me out of my life with no time frame as to when I can have it back! That's madness!" Draco shouted.

"But you'll never have to go back to that," Harry told him.

"_Never?_" Draco gasped. "What the fuck do you mean _never_!?"

"It's not necessary," Harry said carefully, his tone indicated that he was surprised he had to explain this to Draco, as though the blonde should already know. "You're not safe in the muggle world any more either; you're best protected here with me… with magic. Once they're captured you can have your old life back, you don't need to live like a muggle anymore."

"My old life _sucked_, Harry!" Draco shouted. "What if I don't want it back?"

"I didn't mean that you should have exactly your _old _life back, you can start fresh," Harry tried to reason.

"Oh yeah? Who's going to happily let me do that?" Draco scoffed. "Your mate, Ron Weasley who I poisoned in Sixth year? His little sister that my father nearly killed? His brother who had his face ripped off by Fenrir Greyback, who _I_ let into Hogwarts? Did you _forget_, Harry? Do you think they've forgotten?"

Harry didn't respond; his back tensed noticeably and he pursed his lips as though trying not to say something he knew he'd regret later. "That's not you anymore," he hissed harshly after Draco turned away from him.

"I'm stuck now, I can't go back to either of my lives," Draco sighed. "I'm going to have to start again."

"The _hell _you are!" Harry yelled, storming up to where Draco stood and violently spinning him around. "You can't keep running away, Draco, how many new lives are you going to have? Five, ten, thirty? Can you cope starting over that many times?"

"Catch them and I won't have to!" Draco snapped.

"_Stay_ and you won't have to!" Harry retorted. "Look, I can't imagine how difficult it is going to be for you. I know everything you did, I didn't forget, and I know you won't be warmly accepted, but if it helps, know that I'll be there with you the whole way – _every_ step, you won't have to do it alone."

Draco gazed silently into Harry's eyes – those big green eyes were just like people said, windows to the soul – and they never wavered; they were focused, sure, determined… How could he say no when everything in him was screaming yes at the top of his lungs? He always knew Harry had a _presence_, like you could feel him in the room even if you couldn't see him, and Draco never felt it stronger than in that moment. If anyone could stand next to him while he faced his dark past, it was Harry. If anyone could protect him, encourage him, and believe in him, it was Harry.

"Okay," Draco whispered, but his voice shook with emotion. Harry smiled at him and sighed with relief; it was only then that Draco saw how scared Harry had been that he was going to disappear again. "You'll have to go back to my apartment though. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to need my wand."

Harry literally shouted his excitement at these words. He flung himself into Draco's arms and held him so tightly Draco thought he might never be released. "I'm so proud of you!" he whispered softly into Draco's soft blonde hair.

"I know."

* * *

Draco tentatively looked over the roasted lamb leg he had sitting in a large heavy-set tray, not really sure what he was looking for as he examined the meat to see if it was cooked. After a serious inspection he decided he didn't know and that he would leave it up to Harry's discretion.

"Are you sure this is even going to help?" Draco asked skeptically as he watched Harry stick a skewer deep into the cooked flesh of their dinner.

"Well, roast lamb is Ron's favourite so it can't hurt, right? Although, I'm no Molly Weasley," Harry replied thoughtfully.

"Great," Draco replied dryly before stalking back to check his appearance one more time in the mirror.

Harry followed him into his bedroom and glanced over his outfit appreciatively; Draco was wearing tight, faded blue jeans and a fitted, button-up navy blue shirt and Harry thought he looked positively edible. "Everything is going to be fine," he said soothingly. "When I tell Ron we're a couple he might be a bit upset at first, but try not to worry; he loves me more than he hates you so he'll accept it eventually."

"Oh thanks, _that's _comforting," Draco said sarcastically. He snapped his head up anxiously when he heard the doorbell and his muscles tensed as he knew his time was up; Ron Weasley was about to kill him. Ever since Harry mentioned this dinner to him he had been wondering how he would meet his end; would Weasley use his wand to kill him, or would he strangle him with his bare hands? Draco several vivid images of the many ways Ron might use Harry's favourite lamp to kill him and in the end he was forced to discretely move it from the lounge room coffee table to a less accessible position just for his own peace of mind.

"Why don't we answer the door together?" Harry suggested, but Draco's horrified face spoke louder than any words he could have said. "I'd feel better if you were with me," Harry added softly.

"Fine. Just do me one favour, okay?" Draco sighed.

"Anything," Harry promised.

"Inscribe 'Stop stepping on me' on my gravestone," he requested with a straight face, and Harry laughed. "No, make it 'God's gift to men'," he quipped as they made their way to the front door. "God's gift to men everywhere."

"Stop it," Harry chuckled as flicked open the lock to his front door.

"Right, behaving now, but if he kills me, I expect you to press murder charges, best friend or no. Don't just set my feet in cement and throw me in the Thames," Draco told his boyfriend as he opened the door.

"What are _you_ doing here!?" Ron Weasley shouted by way of a greeting when he spied Draco standing behind Harry in the doorway. Rose, his young daughter, whimpered in his arms.

"_Ron,_" Hermione hissed at him in warning. "I told you Harry wanted to explain about Malfoy."

"Yeah, but you never said he'd _be _here," he replied, trying to keep his voice even so as to not upset his daughter. "You're a devious woman, Hermione, you knew he was going to be here didn't you?"

"I might have," she answered vaguely.

"And that's why we brought Rosie? That's why _I'm_ the one holding her?" he asked, although his tone indicated that the questions were almost rhetorical.

"Someone has to control your temper," Hermione told him firmly. "You certainly wouldn't do it for me or Harry, but I knew you would for Rose."

Ron looked away from his wife and at his infant daughter; he looked almost guilty at Hermione's accusation.

"Will you come in, Ron?" Harry asked carefully, stepping aside to allow his friend access into his apartment. "Please?"

Ron looked Harry directly in his bright green eyes, before sighing and reluctantly entering his flat.

"Thank you," Harry whispered gratefully.

Draco had stepped back so that Ron didn't have to brush past him, but he redhead still eyed him dangerously as he swept past. "Weasley," Draco nodded in greeting.

"_Don't _talk to me," Ron snapped as he clutched his daughter tightly to his chest and went straight into Harry's sitting room.

Hermione stepped through the doorway looking after her husband disappointedly; she wrapped Harry in a soothing hug as soon as Ron was out of sight and Draco looked on, jealous of their comfortably intimacy. She pressed her right cheek firmly against Harry's left and whispered gently into his ear. "It'll be okay, between you and me, we can make him see reason," she said.

"Granger," Draco said when she'd finally turned to face him. "Or is it Weasley now?"

"Actually it's Hermione," she smiled, offering him her hand to shake.

A soft smile played on his lips as he accepted her hand. "Hermione," he nodded to her.

"Draco, you look well. The years have been very good to you," she replied. She glanced over her shoulder for a moment to where Harry stood behind them before returning her gaze to him. "Don't make me regret this," she said, her tone almost threatening.

"I won't," he said firmly, looking her directly in her eyes.

"Well, let's get on with it, shall we?" Hermione suggested, leading them both into the sitting room where Ron was waiting for them.

Ron looked reasonably calm as Rose amused herself with his overgrown mop of fiery red hair; Hermione had been nagging him to get it cut for months now. They all gathered cautiously around him, Hermione sat next to him on the couch, Harry on the chair opposite and Draco stood warily by the door as if he already had an escape plan should things get ugly.

"How are you feeling, Ron?" Harry asked quietly. "Are you going to flip out on me?"

Ron looked over at Draco with narrowed eyes as though he was still trying to decide himself.

"Hair-wee," Rose babbled. "Hair-wee, Hair-wee!" She called out to Harry, reaching her tiny hands out to him, demanding his attention. Harry looked at Hermione silently asking her if it was safe for Ron to be unoccupied with Rose's loving attentions; she was supposed to be a distraction for him while Harry broke the news. Ron noticed the silent communication and glanced down to his daughter, struggling against his hold as she desperately tried to get to her Uncle Harry.

Ron sighed. "I'll behave," he said finally and Harry smiled. Ron would do anything for his baby girl, so Rose was released and gently placed on the ground. She had taken her first steps at about nine months old, now, at nearly twenty months, Rose was charging around the floor like she owned the place. She made a beeline for Harry and he scooped her up for some quality cuddles.

"Hey, Rosebud," he smiled at her as she settled into him. "If I give you the punch line first will you promise to listen to the whole story? Or shall I start from the beginning and go from there?" he asked Ron.

"Just give it to me, Harry, like I said, I'll behave," he requested through gritted teeth.

"You know I've been seeing someone, right?" Harry started.

Ron audibly groaned. "You have _got _to be kidding me."

"I'm not. Draco is my boyfriend," Harry said firmly. Ron scowled and his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Maybe you should have eased him into it," Hermione suggested, grasping her husband's hand to gain his attention.

"Ron, I know it seems unlikely, it's taken me a while to get used to the idea too. Do you want me to explain?" Harry asked quickly. He gently ran his fingers through Rosie's baby soft curls, but he was becoming increasingly concerned that Draco was exposed and without his magic; if Ron attacked, he'd be helpless to defend himself.

"Do it quickly," Ron demanded his face almost as pale as Draco's.

"I ran into Draco by chance about three months ago, he's been living as a muggle without his magic for nearly a decade to escape the Carrows – he's done very well for himself," Harry explained quickly. "We had lunch a few times and I've been Owling him nearly every day, we've been getting to know each other again and he's changed a lot."

"Yeah, right," Ron scoffed.

"He's been living among muggles for almost ten years, Ron! How could he _not _have changed!?" Harry insisted, although he didn't yell. "His best friend is a muggle, for heaven's sake!"

"Oh, well, if his best friend is a muggle, then everything he's done to us doesn't matter anymore!" Ron growled.

"We were just kids! Don't you think we've _all_ grown up since then?"

"Yeah, but not _all_ of us tried to kill people," Ron hit back.

"He's not a killer!" Harry answered back, nearly losing his temper and shouting at his friend.

"Can I say something?" Draco interrupted loudly and both boys were shocked into silence. It was obvious they'd forgotten he was there. "Look, I know you don't like me," he began and Ron grunted as if to say 'Understatement of the Century'. "I'm not asking you to like me, or to forgive me, or forget any of the stupid mistakes I made when I was … _brainwashed_ … this isn't about me, this is about Harry. As far as I see it, your best friend is trying to be honest with you about something he knows you're not going to like which I think is to his credit because I don't think it's any of your business."

"Fuck off, Malfoy!" Ron snapped and Hermione admonished his swearing with a shocked, but disgusted 'Ron!' "What would you know about my friendship with Harry?"

"Nothing," Draco admitted. "But I know its Harry's life, he can live it however he sees fit, and he can share it with whomever he likes. I have never felt the need to explain myself or my life to my friends as if I needed their approval, so I don't understand this, but I know it means a lot to Harry which is why I'm standing here. Do you really think I'd let you judge me or my life so freely if I didn't care about him?" Ron just shrugged as his only response. "Look, just don't do anything stupid, okay? Don't give Harry an ultimatum where he has to choose between you and me; don't force him out of your life because you don't like that he's dating me. Keep hating me, I don't care – I don't even blame you really, I hate myself too, I just find it more difficult than you to shut myself out of my own life."

"Draco," Harry sighed, as if pleading for him to go easy on himself; Harry never liked it when he put himself down.

"I plan to earn my place in his life, Weasley, and I don't expect it to be easy or quick, but I don't care. I will earn his respect – and yours – and I don't care how long it takes," Draco finished, surprising even himself. He hadn't really let himself think about being in Harry's life long term, he hadn't thought it was something he wanted, but the more he thought about it now, the more he realized that he'd already made that decision by agreeing to come back to the wizarding world. What other reason did he have to do that than Harry? Why would he make that effort if the bright-eyed Auror weren't completely worth it?

"Hermione, what do you think?" Ron asked his wife softly, once he'd finally pulled his menacing glare from Draco.

"I think Harry deserves to be happy," she replied, "and I think he's old enough and smart enough to be able to decide who can do that for himself."

Ron then looked over to Harry who was still carefully holding his daughter. Harry looked back at him, desperately hoping for his approval, his forgiveness, his understanding. Ron sighed in defeat and he saw Harry exhale a breath of air in relief. "I still hate you," Ron said, looking over at Draco who was grinning in triumph.

"I know," he replied.

"Hey, Ron," Harry called out to him carefully. "I made you lamb." He smiled and Ron smiled back and Harry knew things would be okay between them.

"Well, let's get into it then, I'm starving," Ron suggested.

It was a truce. A forced truce on Ron's behalf, but a truce nonetheless, and Harry couldn't have been more relieved.

Ron and Draco didn't talk with each other during dinner, but Harry didn't mind, it was enough to see Draco chatting to Hermione and smiling at Rosie as she decorated her high-chair tray with mashed potato.

"So, Hermione," Draco asked while Harry and Ron were engaged in a conversation about the Quidditch League. "What are you doing with your time lately? I know Harry said you were a Healer, but you've taken time off to be with Rose haven't you?"

"Yeah, I probably won't go back to work full time for a while, but I do take a shift here and there if there's an emergency or if someone calls in sick and they're desperate," she said.

"Right, well, the reason I ask is I need someone to help me get back into the swing of things. Harry works during the day and I could probably figure it all out again by myself, but it's just been so long," Draco told her, indirectly asking for her assistance.

"Of course, I'd be glad to help," she smiled. "It'll give us a chance to get to know each other."

"Yes, it will," he agreed. "Thank you for this, I don't think I could have done it on my own and I feel like I've been enough of a burden on Harry as it is."

"No problem, and you know he would disagree wholeheartedly with that sentiment. You aren't a burden on him, Draco," she reassured him. Hermione knew how important this was to Harry, she knew he'd been in love with Draco since they shared that first kiss so long ago and, despite her reservations about him, she was beginning to see in him some of what Harry did.

"I know and thank you," he replied gratefully.

* * *

Harry turned and pressed his back against the closed door and released a deep breath. He closed his eyes just letting himself absorb in the moment and feel the relief of the steps he'd taken that night. Ron knew he was with Draco now and he hadn't screamed, he hadn't hurt anyone, he had even listened to Draco somewhat.

"That was quite a night," Draco commented as he went to retrieve Harry from his position holding up the front door.

"Yes, but it went well I think, as well as can be expected," Harry said, smiling gently.

"So are you happy?" Draco asked, stepping up to him.

"Very happy," Harry nodded. He placed his hands on either side of Draco's waist and pulled him into his body.

"Good," Draco whispered, leaning in to steal a small kiss. Harry happily obliged him, but when Draco slipped his tongue inside Harry's mouth, deepening the kiss, and began fingering the buttons on Harry's shirt the Auror regretfully pulled away.

"Draco, I'm sorry," he sighed. "I want to wait just a bit longer. We're both stressed and we haven't really had a chance to settle into a real relationship yet, ever since the Carrows showed up… I'm just not in that kind of mood just now; keeping you safe is my priority."

"You can keep me safe in your bed," Draco suggested, his eyes wide and pleading.

"I know and I want to so much," Harry whimpered as though it physically hurt him to deny Draco. "I just don't want our relationship to be defined by this."

"What would change if we waited?" Draco asked reasonably.

"Nothing probably, it just doesn't feel right," Harry sighed, trying to help Draco understand. "This is my _job_ and I'm thinking about you now more like someone I have to protect for work, if I think about you as my boyfriend then I might become distracted and I can't let that happen, you're too important."

"Okay, fine, I understand," Draco nodded. "But I don't like it and let me assure you, I won't be understanding for very long, and I can't be responsible for my actions if you make a habit of walking around the house in your underwear."

"I'll be fully clothed at all times I promise," Harry laughed and he kissed the tip of Draco's nose. "It's difficult for me too, you know."

Draco smiled softly. "I know," he said.

* * *

Again my apologies for the delay and a sincere thank you too all of you who've stuck with me even through my frustrating writers block!

Much love!

Review if it pleases you, it certainly pleases me xo


	10. Right from hot to cold

Another installment. Am I slowly regaining your trust?

Many heartfelt thanks to the sexy Lexi for betaing this not once but twice.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 10: Right from hot to cold

* * *

Draco nearly flung himself at the door when Callum finally arrived at Harry's flat where Draco had been imprisoned for nearly five weeks.

"What happened? How did it go?" Draco demanded to know before he even had the door fully open. Callum had an extremely important meeting scheduled today to consult with representatives from a firm that, if they signed up to the company, could bring a massive influx of income; a big fish, as they called it. Callum had always attended these kinds of business meetings, but only as Draco's wingman; he'd never chaired one himself.

"Yes, hello," Callum smirked. "Am I going to be allowed inside at all?"

"Just tell me it went great so I can calm the fuck down," Draco pleaded. He'd been jumpy all day waiting to hear from Callum about the outcome of the meeting.

"Okay, it went great."

"You're not just saying that because I asked you too, right? I mean, it _actually_ went great, right?" Draco asked excitedly, practically bouncing behind Callum as the tanned Australian let himself into the lounge room.

Callum turned to face Draco with a grin that stretched from one ear to the other. "It went great," he laughed and Draco squealed, practically flinging himself at Callum.

"Oh my God! This is fantastic! What did Jared say? Was he happy?" Draco spoke so quickly that Callum wouldn't have understood a word had they not been best friends for the last ten years.

"He's happy about the deal, but he barely talks about anything but you these days," Callum admitted, the smile falling from his face. "He's worried he'll never see you again. I know we thought the 'witness protection' story was the best angle, but he's been researching all the processes for witness protection and he's completely freaking out that they're going to give you a new life. I only just managed to talk him out of booking a flight here; he keeps saying he'll protect you himself. I'm running out of reasons why he shouldn't come, this is the seventh time now."

"Does he know you've been able to visit me?" Draco asked anxiously.

"No! Could you imagine if I told him _that_?" Callum scoffed. "He'd be over here on the Concorde in two fucking hours!"

Draco laughed a little nervously; he had been a bit on edge about Jared lately and didn't like talking to Callum about him. He knew he should tell Jared everything; he was as close to him as he was to Callum, but he still wasn't sure.

The truth was Callum had been doing extremely well acting in Draco's position and Kate, the woman who'd taken over Callum's position, was doing well too. The fact is it was looking like they didn't really need Draco at all. Don't get the wrong idea, Draco wasn't upset about this, in fact it was the best possible solution given that it was likely Draco wouldn't be able to fill the position for much longer anyway, if ever again, but it did open up a world of opportunities. It was something Draco had been thinking about for years, incorporating the Wizarding world into the enterprise, a branch he could easily establish and run himself. They could access new avenues for trade and he knew Jared would go for it for sure. There was only one problem… Harry.

They'd been living together for five weeks now and things had been … _tense_, to say the least. They hadn't had a proper conversation for nearly a week; these days they only spoke in harsh whispers, banshee-like screams or sharp snaps. Draco was starting to think that their union wasn't a very good idea after all. He loved Harry, he was absolutely sure about that, but love isn't enough to make a relationship work.

The possibility of losing Harry seemed more likely every day and it pushed a lot of difficult questions into Draco's head. Should he come back to the world of magic if Harry wasn't there to share it with him? Could he face his past alone? Was he doing this for himself because it was the right thing to do, or for Harry?

He couldn't answer any of these questions just yet. He simply didn't know if he could do this alone or if he even wanted to; why would he bother if Harry wouldn't be his lifetime reward for his efforts? He really didn't know where his future lay anymore.

"How's everything else going?" Draco asked after a while. "The office and everything… Are you treating Julie well? Nobody's filed sexual harassment claims against you, have they?"

"Hey! I resent that!" Callum exclaimed, frowning as he pretended to be offended. "Everything is going well, in fact, I think they all like me better than you."

"Yeah, right!" Draco laughed, but stopped abruptly when he saw Callum looking behind him at the door. He turned to find Harry staring at him with glassy eyes.

"It's been a while since I've heard you laugh," the Auror said sadly from across the room, he was coming home from work still dressed in his Auror robes. Draco just shrugged at him, not knowing what else to do or say; Harry already knew he was unhappy here. Harry walked over to Draco and kissed him firmly on his temple, trying to convey his passion behind the simple kiss, but Draco didn't feel it. "I'm going to get changed," he told them, nodding a hello to Callum before leaving the room.

"Wow," Callum gasped awkwardly. "Things just went right from hot to cold between you two, didn't they?"

"Yeah, well, he just doesn't understand what it's like to be trapped here," Draco complained. "He keeps saying I should enjoy having some time off from work to just be lazy, but I haven't been lazy my whole life, it's driving me insane and he doesn't care!"

"I'm sure he _cares_, Leo," Callum chastised him. "I mean, Draco, sorry."

"It's okay, I've gotten as used to being called Leo as you are to calling me that," Draco said smiling weakly at his friend. "I know he cares, it's just I've asked him to find me somewhere else to stay and he says he can't, that there is nowhere else."

"What? Do all the people he protects come and stay here?" Callum asked sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Draco agreed with a deep sigh. "I just don't know what to do."

"Hang in there, Mate," Callum tried to comfort him. "I brought some Johnnie Walker Classic if that'll make you feel better?"

"Much better," Draco smiled and Callum cracked open the bottle of Scotch whisky.

* * *

Harry's flat was a typical tiny London flat that the Auror was reluctant to magically resize given that he lived in a muggle apartment building. Draco hadn't been outside once since he arrived and Harry even got upset when he opened the window to lean out and get some fresh air. He hadn't been able to exercise properly either, there's only so much a man can do in a small space before he just _needs _to go for a nice long run.

As such, Draco had been watching lots of television since it was the only company he had, particularly now that Harry wasn't really talking to him.

"Harry, I can't find the remote," Draco whined from the lounge room one night. "My show is going to be on in two minutes!"

"What?" Harry asked, frowning as he walked out of the bathroom with his wand in hand; he had been spelling his teeth clean just before he went to bed.

"My show, Harry!" Draco exclaimed, frantically searching through the cushions on the couch. "I can't find the remote, I can't change the channel."

"Use the buttons on the TV," Harry suggested, rolling his eyes as he returned to the bathroom.

"I don't know how! I've always used the remote!" Draco shouted, frustrated at Harry's lack of empathy at his predicament. "What did you do with it?"

"What did _I _do with it?" Harry scoffed. "I didn't do anything with it; I don't even watch TV, Draco. I don't like it."

"You do watch TV, you watch that investigation show with me, where they solve mysteries that look impossible," Draco huffed.

"Jonathan Creek?" Harry replied. "Oh yeah, I do love that show."

"_So,_ where's the remote?"

"One show? I watch _one show _a week and suddenly _I'm _the one that lost the TV remote?" Harry asked in disbelief; he shook his head disappointedly and walked out of the room.

"Oh right," Draco drawled sarcastically. "Because that's _all _I do, isn't it? I just sit on your couch like a lazy prick and watch the telly all day! That's what you think of me isn't it?"

"No!" Harry snapped as he stormed back into the room. "I know you're cooped up here with nothing to do, I just wish you wouldn't blame me for every little thing that goes wrong in this house!"

"Maybe I blame you because it's your fucking fault that I'm _stuck here!_" Draco hissed and he stormed past where Harry stood in the entryway of the lounge to his own room that Harry had set up for him.

"Great," Harry sighed to himself once he heard Draco's bedroom door slam, the sound ringing in his ears.

* * *

Callum came to visit him over the weekend and sometimes during the week to keep him company and he always looked forward to it, but Hermione was with him even more frequently, re-teaching him all his forgotten magicks. She usually came over three times a week and always brought little Rosie along with her.

"You're just swishing your wand a little _too_ much, Draco," Hermione instructed him gently. "Try again."

Draco took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as he pointed his wand again. "_Feravierto!_" he said, swishing his wand back and forth. The frog transfigured again into a slimy green goblet and he could have snapped his wand in half from the frustration.

"What's wrong, Draco?" Hermione sighed. "Yesterday you had this one every time."

Draco threw his wand carelessly on the table and slumped back in his chair. "We had another fight," he admitted reluctantly, touching his temples like he had the beginnings of a headache.

"Another one?" Hermione gasped.

"Yes, _another one_," Draco bit out a little harsher than he wanted to.

"Oh dear," she sighed, biting at her lip. "You better have a truffle." She smiled at him sympathetically as she passed over a small bowl of chocolate truffles. She declared when she had arrived earlier that day that she had felt creative last night after Rose had fallen to sleep and made him truffles to help his mood; apparently there were more until Ron found them for a midnight snack.

"This isn't working, Hermione," he whispered weakly; he was starting to fall into a depression from the hopelessness of his situation that, as of yet, had no end in sight. "It's been five weeks and we've argued at least once every day for the last two, sometimes more. Last weekend he went into work to do unpaid overtime, why do you think he did that?" Draco asked bitterly, making it obvious with his tone that he already suspected Harry was just trying to get away from him.

"You just have to be patient," Hermione sighed.

"Easier said than done," he huffed. "This relationship is going to be over before it has even begun. The best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm fucking it up."

"Harry understands it's not the best situation, I'm sure he does," Hermione tried to reassure him.

"Yeah, but what if he thinks this is like a flash of the future, what if he decides that we won't ever be able to last because we clearly can't live together?" Draco asked worriedly. He'd been having these thoughts for a while but he'd yet to get any of his anxieties off his chest. "And what if it's true?"

"Firstly, Harry thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread, so its going to take more than a few stupid little fights to get rid of him," Hermione reasoned. "And secondly, you are being _way_ too hard on yourself. You've been trapped in this tiny flat for over a month; it'd drive anyone barmy, Draco."

"I have to get out," Draco decided. "I can't stay here anymore."

"You have to, just for a little while longer," she reminded him. "Ron is sure the Carrows will make another appearance soon and Harry's not going to let you go anywhere until he's sure it's safe for you."

"Yeah and when's that going to be?" Draco complained.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted and Draco slumped even further into the couch thinking he was going to be trapped in Harry's flat until he died of old age.

Rose Weasley always had impeccable timing, so naturally, just as Draco was starting to feel hopelessly confined to this desperately lonely flat; she waddled over to him with a small storybook clutched tightly in her fingers. Draco, it seemed, was a strong contender for Rose's affections and occasionally even won her from Harry; he suspected she liked his 'Angel hair'; she had a small porcelain angel in her room that she had named after him. She came to a stop at his feet and wobbled as she looked up into his face pleading with her eyes. "Way-way," she said; that was her name for him.

"You want me to read you a book?" he asked her.

Rose nodded fervently and thrust the book at Draco. "Baby book."

Hermione laughed. "She's fascinated with babies at the moment, she doesn't seem to realize she's still a baby herself; well, she's my baby anyway. Luna just had her first only a month ago and I took Rose over last week and she just stared at Lorcan and said 'gentle, gentle' whenever she touched him because I'd given her a 'you have to be gentle' lecture before we left."

Draco smiled softly, thinking Rose was probably the cutest little girl that ever lived. He pulled her up on to his lap and began reading a story about a little boy who had just gotten a baby sister and all the things he did to help his mother take care of her. For the three minutes he read with Rose, Draco's life didn't seem quite so bad.

* * *

"Hey Beautiful," Harry said casually, dropping a kiss on to Draco's forehead. "How did it go with Hermione today?" Draco was sitting in Harry's comfortable armchair reading a book; he'd decided the day before, after his fight with Harry, that TV was making him a little nuts.

"Not too bad," Draco answered; things had gone much better once he'd been able to talk about some of the things that had been bothering him lately, he was glad Hermione thought his reactions were relatively normal. "She thinks I'm ready for some bigger spells now."

"Oh really?" Harry called from the kitchen as he made himself his usual after work cup of tea. "That sounds good; sounds like you're doing well."

"I am," Draco answered. "She thinks we'll need a bigger space though, we can't keep working here."

"Oh," Harry replied, his face falling almost immediately. "Draco, you know it's difficult for you to leave here. It's not safe."

"Come on, Harry, they aren't waiting at the front door to pounce the second I leave the house," Draco tried to reason. Harry had him under tight lock and key. "I'm going insane in here, you know I am, I fucking take it out on you often enough!"

"I can put up with that if it keeps you safe," Harry told him firmly.

"Yeah, but I can't," Draco stated. "I can't stay here for very much longer."

"I understand, I really do," Harry cooed, clearly trying to appease him. "But you're just going to have to wait."

"If you understood what this feels like, you wouldn't be asking me to keep waiting," Draco whispered dangerously before silently making his way to his room.

It had been getting worse and worse as each day passed; if they weren't fighting, they weren't talking. They hadn't exchanged a civil word to one another for longer than Draco cared to think about, and every time they tried it always turned sour. Draco could feel their relationship slipping away and he felt powerless to stop it even though it had been he who initiated every argument and he who walked away. He couldn't help but resent Harry for the decisions he'd made about Draco's life without consulting him; obeying his orders was the largest gesture of affection that he could manage right now, anything more than that was too emotionally draining.

Draco spent most of his time alone in his room when Harry was home, he tried to force himself to face him but it only ended in a fight most of the time and he wasn't sure how much more he could take of their arguments. They never fought about anything meaningful, it always started out as something ridiculous, like when Harry washed Draco's jumper without asking when apparently he wanted to wear it, but it always ended up the same – Harry had Draco caged and he was getting sick of it.

_Knock. Knock. _

The sound was delicate on his bedroom door, apprehensive almost.

"Draco, I bought us Chicken and Mushroom Risotto for dinner if you're hungry," Harry told him lightly, cracking the door open a little.

Draco sighed. He didn't want to see Harry, but he was hungry. "Okay, I'm coming out," he replied and Harry shut the door again. Draco climbed off his bed where he'd been reading and prepared for battle.

"Here you go," Harry said cheerfully –but not overly so in case it irritated Draco- as he placed the plate in front of his boyfriend. "Marco was at his finest tonight I think, it tastes wonderful, I've snuck a spoonful already."

Draco smiled at him warmly. He loved small moments like this where they seemed normal, just two men in love sharing a meal and a home. "Thank you," he said.

The meal was delicious, just as Harry had said, and they even managed some amusing small talk throughout. Apparently Harry had run into Pansy Parkinson again and, as usual, she had demanded to know why he had made no progress in locating her friend. Harry hilariously recounted his speechlessness and stuttering as he tried to answer Pansy, when all he could think about was how much progress he had really made and the fact that he knew exactly where Draco was, at _his _house, living there as his _boyfriend_.

"She's going to be furious with me when I finally face her," Draco chuckled, although he was being completely serious. "She'll probably slap me."

"And rightly so I'd say, I would have slapped you myself, but I was just so fucking relieved that I'd finally found you," Harry laughed.

"You were?" Draco asked surprised.

Draco tilted his head slightly looking perplexed and Harry thought he looked so cute he just wanted to kiss him senseless. This thought sobered Harry completely as he remembered that they hadn't properly kissed for a few days and he shouldn't push it if Draco was unwilling. He was so scared he was losing him. "Yes, I was."

Draco smiled. "How about some dessert? Hermione made me the most decadent truffles today and I think there's two left," he said as he cleared their plates. "One for you and one for me." He placed a tender kiss on the top of Harry's head savouring the feel of his ebony hair against his cheek; he hadn't been that close to him in a while. It was the first pleasant evening they'd shared in a long time. He couldn't see Harry's face, but if he could he would have seen the Auror's smile drop from his face faster than a stone fell through the air –he would have seen Harry swear silently to himself and scrunch up his face as though bracing himself for a painful onslaught.

Draco placed the dirty plates on to the counter and moved to Harry's cooler where the remaining truffles had been stored; they were gone. He was sure he'd put them there. "Harry," he called. "Did you see my truffles?"

"I'm sorry," Harry answered quickly, wincing noticeably. "I didn't know, I didn't think."

"You ate them?" Draco asked, looking betrayed. Harry felt horrible.

"I'm sorry, I'll buy you some more," he assured his boyfriend.

"Buy more? They're _homemade,_ Harry! You can't buy more! Hermione's not a _shop!_" Draco snapped. He couldn't believe such a wonderful evening had flopped so quickly.

"I'll buy you any kind of dessert you want," Harry promised, going to get his coat from the cupboard so he could go out in search of some kind of chocolate for Draco.

"How could you be so thoughtless?" Draco accused. "I don't have much in this house, but those truffles were mine and you just _ate them _without even asking!"

"I said I was sorry!"

Draco didn't reply, he just pursed his lips together and frowned as though he was thinking about something. "I can't stay here another second," he whispered, almost to himself, and he turned on his heel and stalked back to his room, not even bothering to close the door before beginning to pack his things into a backpack.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked shakily as he watched Draco gather his things from the doorway.

"I'm leaving," Draco stated simply.

"You can't leave," Harry stated trying to sound decisive and not scared, but not quite managing it. "It's too dangerous."

Draco stopped his frantic packing to stare up at Harry's frightened expression. "I don't care," he hissed. "I can't _take this _anymore."

"I'm sorry, Draco. I'm _sorry_!" Harry pleaded. "I'll buy you a whole store of truffles, a whole _factory!_"

"I don't _want_ any fuckin' truffles!" Draco practically screamed, clenching his fists in frustration. Had Harry not listened to _anything _he'd said the last few weeks? Was his desperation, his fear, completely unheard? "I want you!"

"You have me," Harry replied, his voice cracking with emotion.

"No, I don't," he retorted shaking his head. "We don't do anything except fight; you won't touch me at all. It's been days since we even kissed properly."

"Come here then, I'll kiss you now." Harry held out his arms for Draco to slip into, but the blonde denied him. "Draco, _please_," he begged.

Draco zipped up the backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He was ready to go. "It's going to be okay," he said gently, letting his hand caress Harry's muscular arm. "It's been over a month now and you've had no sign of them. I promise I won't go back to my apartment; I'll go to a random hotel, okay? I'll pay plenty of cash and book in under Joe Bloggs or something, no one will know."

Harry's eyes were wide with fear and his bottom lip seemed to tremble without his permission. He looked so much younger in that moment, like a scared first year, rather than an experienced Auror; he seemed so vulnerable.

"I've done this before all by myself and I did just fine," Draco tried to soothe him.

"I won't be able to sleep," Harry whimpered. "Stay here, just for tonight; I'll make other arrangements tomorrow."

"What arrangements?" Draco asked skeptically.

"My options are limited," Harry replied evasively.

"I'm not staying with Weasley."

"_Draco,_" Harry begged for his boyfriend to be reasonable.

"No," he replied defiantly. "I'm booking into a hotel and paying an obscene amount to stay for a week, you have that long to make other arrangements if you wish or I'm going back to my apartment. But, I _will not _live with your friends or anyone else. I will live _alone_, is that clear?"

"You're going to get yourself killed," Harry pleaded, his emotions threatening to spill over.

"You won't let that happen," Draco smiled softly. "I need my own space. I won't take any stupid risks, but I need my own space."

"Is there anything I can do or say to make you change your mind?" Harry asked, sounding defeated.

"No."

"You can sleep in my bed with me, we can do anything you like," Harry promised.

Draco felt his body heat up. He'd been dying to touch Harry for weeks, the sexual tension between them was palpable and it was part of the reason things had escalated the way they had. Both boys were stressed, exhausted, and outrageously horny.

"No, we can't," Draco answered thickly. "You're bribing me and I don't want my first time with you to be like that.

Harry nodded. He didn't want it to be like that either, but he would have done anything to make Draco stay, aside from kidnapping him and physically tying him down somewhere. He knew this arrangement wasn't going to last much longer, it was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. "I know, me either. At least stay within magic wards, stay at the Leaky or something," he suggested, trying to negotiate.

"I can't, I'd be recognized and I'm not ready for that yet," Draco sighed, wondering if he ever would be.

"We'll dress you up, disguise you," he suggested.

"My hair is like a Malfoy trademark, it won't work."

"I'll get you a wig."

"Harry," Draco groaned. "I've made my decision."

"Okay, fine," Harry conceded. "Just wait a minute." Harry disappeared into his own bedroom for few minutes while Draco waited awkwardly in the front entrance of the flat with his backpack still slung over his shoulder. When Harry finally immerged he handed Draco a Sickle wrapped in a handkerchief. "It's an emergency portkey," he explained. "It will take you straight back here after my work hours and to the Ministry when I'm working. Unfortunately I can't activate it to take you direct to my office, there are restrictions on that stuff, but it will take you to the lobby and I will feel it if you use it and I'll come straight to you."

"What if you're out on assignment?" Draco asked.

"I'll still feel it and I'll come right back or alert Kingsley and he'll take care of you," Harry assured him. "I have a direct link to Kings through my Auror mark."

Draco nodded, wrapping the Sickle up tightly and slipping it into his pocket. "Thanks," he said.

"Just make sure you have it on you all the time, don't leave it anywhere, _always _on you somewhere, okay?" Harry pressed, making sure Draco heard the determination in his voice; this was non-negotiable for Harry.

"On me always, I promise," he agreed. "I better go; you should go to bed soon."

"At least let me take you to the hotel so I know where you're staying," Harry requested.

Draco smiled. He was relieved Harry was going along with this; he thought Harry must have guessed that the arrangement wasn't working and couldn't last much longer. "Okay," he nodded in agreement.

Harry apparated them both out of his flat and into a narrow alleyway where they could appear unnoticed. From there the two began to walk towards a muggle hotel Draco had never heard of or been to before, it was clean and nice enough, but it wasn't five star, that's for sure. "It needs to be discrete," Harry told him when he eyed the establishment with a distasteful frown.

"If you say so," Draco teased, just glad to be out of Harry's flat. They booked Draco in for the week and took the elevator up to the third floor where Draco's room was located. Once Harry had investigated the room, the windows, closed the curtains, and secured the place with a few minor protection spells, Draco insisted he go home to bed. "I might take that proper kiss before you leave though," he requested shyly, feeling more like himself again already.

"I thought you'd never ask." Harry reached for Draco's hand to pull him closer before claiming his mouth in a soft kiss, but Draco wasn't having any of that. He pressed himself into Harry further and deepened the kiss with a needy moan. It was everything he'd been wanting from his boyfriend for weeks and it didn't disappoint.

"Is it weird that, after everything, I still feel like I'm going to miss you?" Draco whispered once they'd broken apart for air.

"No," Harry replied quietly, not wanting to end the moment. "I'm going to miss you, too."

"I'm sorry I've been such a shit lately," he apologized sincerely. "I think I went a bit loopy."

"I don't mind," Harry assured him, stealing one last kiss.

"Go home and go to bed," Draco instructed his boyfriend as Harry released a wide yawn. Draco knew Harry hadn't been sleeping well since he'd moved in.

Harry nodded and gazed at Draco one last time before disappearing into the hotel corridor. He walked silently to the elevator and took it down to the lobby.

"I'd like a room please," he asked the receptionist.

"Of course, how long will you be staying with us?" she asked.

"A week."

* * *

That wasn't too hateful was it? They made up at the end...

Show me love.


	11. One night, that's all I ask

Hello dudes and dudettes. Sorry about the delay I have been MIA for a week while I went away for work - not nearly as exciting as it sounds since while it _sounds _like you're on holiday you're actually working the whole time.

Many thanks to Lex who betaed this for me! I hope you all like it and it was worth the wait! :D

* * *

Chapter 11: One night, that's all I ask.

Callum glanced critically around the plain hotel room Draco was staying in now, making Draco roll his eyes and bite down on his laugh as he watched him. Callum had endured much worse, particularly in his late teens when he was 'chasing the surf' as he liked to so often recall, and Draco knew the man could happily sleep in a hedge if he needed to, but he had never seen Draco endure anything less than five star accommodation. Draco could see the wonder at his calm acceptance plainly on Callum's face and he was sure Callum was vividly replaying the dramatic fuss he'd made at the rooms they were given during a recent trip to Amsterdam – the front receptionist even cried – not his finest moment.

"Seems to me like you've just traded one cell for another," Callum commented eventually, after Draco had relayed the events that led to his staying here.

"Yes, but this cell is just mine," Draco smiled. It still was not an ideal situation but it was a vast improvement on where he was only three days ago. "I don't have to share it with Harry and slowly destroy any affection he has for me with my insanity."

"But he's still here," Callum reminded him with a frown, clearly not understanding how it made any difference – Draco had his own room at Harry's place too, after all.

Draco chuckled at Callum's confusion; no matter how much time he spent with gay men, Draco knew Callum would never understand how they thought. "I know, but I can pretend he's not. I'm not _living _with him," Draco tried to explain, but it didn't seem to shed any light on the matter for the straight Australian. "Just trust me, it helps."

Callum nodded, seemingly happy with that conclusion, and fished through Draco's mini bar for a small bottle of whiskey, which he downed with satisfaction. "Does he still think you don't know he's here?" he asked casually as he disposed of the tiny bottle in the nearby rubbish bin.

"Yes, he even pretends to come and check on me 'after work'," Draco replied using air quotes and laughing as he remembered how Harry came to see him at six o'clock the last two evenings with obviously fabricated stories about how he'd spent his day at work.

"I thought he took the week off?" Callum smiled, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

"He has," Draco confirmed before allowing his laughter to roll out of him pleasantly.

"He has some serious issues," Callum commented, shaking his head.

"It's called Draco-itus," he replied before taking another bite of the Chow Mein Noodles Callum had bought him for lunch from his favourite restaurant. "I've seen a few people come down with it over the years."

"Yeah, remember Joshua?" Callum reminisced.

"Uh huh, and Tim."

"Oh my God, Tim," Callum sighed nostalgically. "I forgot about that guy. Yeah, he definitely had it. Didn't he wait outside your Sydney flat in his car for like three days when you went to Christchurch for a conference?"

Draco nodded, clutching his stomach through his silent laughter. "Poor guy," he giggled after taking a breath. "I think he wanted to move to London with me when I told him I was coming back here."

"Good thing you didn't let him, I don't think Harry would have been pleased," Callum observed. "He was upset enough about that trashy bartender you were sticking it to. I reckon he had a bit of a Draco addiction as well."

"Todd? Oh yeah, maybe, he did get a bit needy for a while there, always wanting to take me out," Draco sighed as though being universally desired were _such _a burden.

"I'm glad you waited for Harry before you got serious about someone," Callum grinned. That was about as sappy as he was going to get.

"I didn't _wait _for Harry," Draco retorted, none too pleased about the suggestion.

"Sure you didn't," Callum scoffed. "Anyway, Harry might have Draco-itus, but I think you might have a bit of Harry Fever too, even if you do want to kill him right now."

"I never wanted to kill him. I considered killing _something … _like his favourite mug, just smashing it to pieces so I didn't have to watch him drink coffee out of it everyday," Draco confessed. "But never him personally, he's just too pretty for that."

"Yes well we have to keep the pretty ones alive I suppose," Callum agreed awkwardly like he wasn't really sure what he was agreeing to; he'd declared certain men hot while drunk when he was encouraging Draco to score, but this was Draco's _boyfriend_ –his friend- and it felt a little weird.

"I have other plans now anyway," Draco told him cryptically with a smug look.

"Oh really? Other plans eh?" Callum teased him. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you've been so long without sex you're practically a virgin again, would it?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, it does and I need your help," he admitted.

"Anything, Dude. You know that."

* * *

It was four o'clock on Friday afternoon and Draco knew Harry wasn't supposed to be 'back from work' for another two hours. He grinned deviously at his reflection in the grimy mirror as he imagined Harry's face when he opened the door and told him he knew he'd been hiding out in the hotel the whole time – surprise, shame, that beautiful bashful blush. He gathered up the large white box with a blue ribbon wrapped around the top and locked up his room behind him as he left. He stalked down the hall towards the elevator, passing a young maid with her cleaning trolley as he did, she looked him over with a lusty gaze and he shuddered at the thought of what she was imagining about him right then.

"I'm gay, Sweetie," he declared as he swept past her and she didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed, just disappointed.

Draco took the lift to the floor below and made his way to the room he knew to be Harry's. He didn't like remembering how he'd found out the room was Harry's, suffice it to say that he had a lot of time on his hands and he had just seen Golden Eye on TV.

Draco knocked sharply on the door and waited, shifting his position three times wondering how he best wanted Harry to see him upon discovering him there. In the end he didn't have time to put much thought into it as Harry opened the door looking shocked, but pleased to see him. Draco smirked and raised his eyebrows at Harry as if to say, 'And you thought I didn't know you were here'; it was then Harry realized he'd been caught out.

"Draco, I – I-" he started trying to explain, but Draco cut him off.

"Don't bother, I've known you were here since the first day," he said easily as he strolled past him into the room.

"Really?" Harry gaped, obviously thinking he wasn't as good an Auror as he first thought if his undercover protection had been so easily found out.

"Really," Draco confirmed, giving Harry a small peck on the lips to show him there were no hard feelings. "I wasn't silly enough to believe you'd actually leave me here alone. I know you better than that."

Harry smiled looking relieved. "You look nice," he commented. Draco looked more than nice; he was dressed in a handsome muggle suit made by Armani, similar to the one he had gift wrapped for Harry in the box he carried.

"Thank you. You will too when you get dressed," Draco answered lifting the box up for Harry to see before placing it on the end of the ruffled bed Harry had been sleeping in. "But first a shower, I think," he noted, pointing a confused looking Harry to the bathroom.

"What's that?" he asked, moving to grab at the beautifully adorned box.

"A present," Draco told him, swatting him away from the gift. "After you shower!"

Harry's eyes grew wide and he looked more like he wanted to throw the gift out the window than open it to see what was inside. "You went out?" he accused angrily. "When? You can't do that, it's not safe for you!"

"Calm down, Mr. Prison Guard," Draco huffed at Harry lack of appreciation. "Cal got it for me; I told him what to buy. Now get in the fucking shower before I change my mind!"

"Change your mind on what?" Harry questioned, still suspicious.

"How much have I put up with from you for the last few months?" Draco asked evenly trying to sound reasonable. "Just give me this one thing, one night that's all I want. After all this shit, I'm just asking for one night with you, and you will be there with me the whole time, you'll still be able to protect me, oh Knight-in-Shining-Armour."

"Tell me where you want to go and I'll think about it," Harry replied stiffly.

"One night or I swear to God I will not be here in the morning," Draco hissed abruptly changing his tone, and Harry could tell he wasn't joking.

Harry took a deep breath and released it slowly. "One night," he agreed and Draco nodded before firmly directing Harry into the bathroom for a shower.

* * *

"Please can we Apparate?" Harry begged as he tried to pull Draco in closer to him.

The air was uncomfortably cold as they walked, and with only a few days until Christmas, Draco wasn't surprised, but he also knew the cold was not the reason Harry wanted to Apparate. Draco breathed the chilled air deeply and sighed contentedly, determined not to let Harry's persistent worrying ruin their night.

"No," Draco answered simply as he smiled at the Christmas lights and decorations all around. He generally maintained that he hated Christmas–it always reminded him that he was without a family of his own- but he wasn't so stone-hearted that the soft twinkling lights and joyful children didn't have him feeling slightly warmed to the holiday season.

"Why not? I've agreed to this stupid outing, why are you insisting on parading out in the open like this?" Harry demanded angrily.

"Stop it," Draco snapped, yanking free of Harry's arm and stopping in his tracks. "You're ruining this! It's supposed to be our first real date and you're ruining it!"

Harry huffed and rubbed at his temples with the tips of his fingers as if massaging away an oncoming headache. "I know this means a lot to you, Draco," he sighed wearily. "And as much I was would love to give you this perfect date and everything you desire, my first priority is to keep you alive so that I can make you happy in the future."

Draco set his face into a determined scowl before he turned on his heel and stalked in the opposite direction back towards the hotel. He spread his arms out and turned his head up to the dimming evening sky. "Come and get me!" he screamed. "I'm here! Kill me! Come on!"

Harry felt like he'd swallowed his heart and it was stuck in his throat as he heard the man he loved taunting the psycho Death Eaters who wanted to see him dead. He ran after his lover and tried to grab him and pull his arms in. "Draco, what are you doing!?"

"Let go of me!" Draco shouted, jerking his arm sharply out of Harry's grasp again. "I will not put up with this shit anymore, Harry Potter!" he spat.

"Draco, for God's sake!" Harry pleaded trying to grab at him again. He was desperate to get Draco out of the open and he was angry at Draco's seeming flippancy with his own life.

"No, you will _listen _to me for once!" Draco told him sharply. "One night, one date, that's all I asked and you can't even do that! Well, I'm telling you now that I'm not putting up with this anymore. I never did any of this for me; I did it for you, because it made _you_ happy. Locking myself away, giving up my work, my apartment, my friends, my _life;_ I did it all for you! Doing all of that only made me want to run outside and _beg_ Alecto and Amicus to kill me where I stood just to end my suffering."

Harry felt like he was going to be sick, he could feel the bile rising in his throat as he heard his boyfriend express his desperation at the situation Harry had put him in. He had known Draco was unhappy with how things worked out, but not this unhappy. "I was only trying to protect you," he whimpered desperately.

"I will live my life as I please," Draco hissed at him. "Do you understand me?"

Harry's bright green eyes shone with hurt and he swallowed down the contents of his stomach, trying to maintain a semblance of control as passers-by stared at the gay couple screaming at each other on the street.

Draco growled and turned from Harry when he didn't reply, stalking back towards the hotel, obviously giving up on their date.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked running after him, the combination of his emotional state and the freezing air pinking his cheeks.

"I dunno, away from you," Draco growled.

"Draco, no!" he pleaded. "I understand. I understand you, please, just don't go!"

Draco stopped again in his tracks and whirled around, his own face tinged with pink from the air and his own anger. "Do you?"

"Yes," Harry breathed, confirming it with a nod.

"Then prove it," Draco requested almost desperately. Despite his declarations and the seriously shitty several weeks he'd had, he was falling in love with Harry and he didn't want to leave him.

Harry stared at Draco for a moment, letting his heart rate calm and watching the anger disappear from Draco's eyes and turn into despair with a small amount of hope glimmering where Harry could only just see it. He took a tentative step towards the volatile blonde and slowly reached out for his hand wishing, as Draco let him have it, that they did not have to wear gloves; he wanted to feel his soft pale skin. Draco looked at him still untrusting that Harry could do as he asked, and as doubt and fear crept into his mind he struggled to push it away. Harry guided Draco into his arms and let their hot breath mingle in the air between them. "I'm scared," Harry whispered, his tone unsure and child-like. "I can't lose you. I thought that only the Carrows could take you from me and I concentrated so hard on protecting you from them I didn't notice I was already losing you."

"I can't live my life in fear, Harry," Draco said firmly. "It's no life at all. My parents lived their last few months hiding in fear. I will die one day, everybody does, and I want to know I made the most of my life, whether I die tomorrow or in eighty years."

"Then let's make the most of our lives," Harry whispered, daring to steal a small kiss from the man he hoped was still his. "In case we die tomorrow."

Draco smiled in relief, finally feeling like Harry had listened to him –really _listened_- and he sagged into his embrace nuzzling into the thick coat he wore to protect himself from the winter cold. "Okay," he agreed and the two of them walked silently to the restaurant Draco had picked for them to dine at, wondering if their date was still salvageable.

* * *

"I have a reservation for two under Callum Hughes," Draco informed the hostess that greeted them at the door. She looked over her reservation book and frowned slightly. "We're a little bit late, I hope that's okay," Draco confessed, his voice sweet like warm honey, as he slipped a hundred pound note onto the front counter.

"Not a problem, Sir," she smiled as she relieved them both of their heavy coats. "Please follow me."

She led them to a table in the back corner, which Draco had Callum request for privacy. The tablecloth was a pristine, crisp white and there was a crystal bowl filled with water and two floating candles flickering romantically between them as they sat down. Harry reached across the table immediately for Draco's hand, feeling the need to touch him now that they had both removed their gloves; Draco obliged and Harry clutched at his hand, ignoring the glances from other patrons.

The conversation was awkward between the two of them after their argument; both wanted to do something to create an easy, carefree atmosphere between them but neither knew what. The restaurant served a mixture of fine dishes originating from all over Europe, Draco had eaten here before and he knew the Head Chef was a perfectionist; thus the food was perfect. It was delicious, but it was the delicate, artistic kind of food that doesn't properly fill you up, so they both made sure to order an appetizer, an entrée, and a main.

They were silently eating their main course after a nearly silent entrée when a nervous looking waiter made his way over to them. "I do not mean to disturb your meal, Sirs," he said, "but your chauffer has arrived."

Draco glanced down at his watch and sure enough it was half seven on the dot, exactly when he'd ordered the limousine to pick them up. "Please tell him I will pay him double if he returns in another thirty minutes," he requested.

"Certainly," the boy agreed before disappearing to the front of the restaurant.

"Our chauffer?" Harry asked curiously, speaking easily for the first time since they'd entered the restaurant.

"Yes, I thought we'd do this date muggle style," Draco nodded, "since I can't exactly organize anything in the wizarding world just yet; they still think Draco Malfoy is long gone. Besides, Cal organized most of this for me."

"A chauffer sounds perfect," Harry replied, dutifully avoiding the subject of Draco's return to the wizarding world; a contentious subject between the two of them lately.

"Thank you." Draco smiled gratefully at Harry and he felt himself relax further. Harry nodded; he understood Draco wasn't thanking him for his praise of their date, but for not starting another argument. Harry had already argued with Draco that he would be easier to protect with the full magic wards of the wizarding world, but Draco had, thus far, steadfastly refused to return with no explanation as to why. He had even argued that Draco would be freer to wander around outside in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade which were both warded against Dark magic and should keep the Carrows at bay. Draco still refused.

"The veal is delicious, you should try some," Harry offered awkwardly.

The whole dinner had been uncomfortable and weird and Draco felt like it was all his fault; Harry was obviously trying very hard for him. They should have cancelled everything and tried again the next evening, or next weekend, rather than have this awful first date mark the beginning of their relationship. "I want to be sure about you – about us – before I return to magic," he confessed quietly, bringing up the subject himself and confessing to Harry a truth he had not yet admitted. He felt a weight lift off his chest as he did, and he looked up at Harry with an anxious relief.

"You're unsure about us?" Harry asked, his tone softening with each word until it was barely audible.

"Aren't you?" Draco replied, genuinely surprised that Harry could find any certainty in the volatile relationship they'd had thus far.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my whole life," Harry confessed ardently. "I want to spend my life with you."

"Yes, you want to, but I don't know if we're _capable _of that," he answered, staring into his half eaten meal. "Let's just take this one step at a time, let's just be _us_ for a while. We will need to be strong together before we can take on the rest of the world and defend our relationship."

Harry just nodded silently and sighed. He knew Draco was right, they needed to be able to stand together with complete faith in each other before they would be able to take the criticism they were sure to encounter when Draco made his first appearance at Harry's side in the world of magic. "We can make our relationship stronger, but I never want you to feel unsure of me, or unsure of us," Harry whispered.

"Okay," Draco nodded smiling gently at Harry's words and quickly squeezed his hand as he promised himself he would have the kind of faith in Harry that the man was asking for. Draco felt like everything that needed to be said had been said and that they both needed to move on, so he extended his leg under the table to caress his foot up and down the length of Harry's calf muscle. "Let's stop moping and just enjoy ourselves, shall we?"

"I think that's a good idea," Harry agreed, smiling shyly with a slight boyish blush, and Draco felt renewed hope.

* * *

The limousine was polished black and shone so clearly under the lights of London that Harry could almost see his reflection as if it were a mirror. He hummed his pleasure at the extravagance into Draco's ear as he held him close and the blonde chuckled appreciatively before pulling them both towards the lengthened sedan.

Draco slid along the soft leather upholstery and Harry followed him closely, refusing to let the blonde get too far away. Harry would have had Draco sitting almost completely in his lap had their separate seatbelts not prevented it, and Draco wouldn't have minded if he did.

Since Draco admitted he was feeling unsure of their relationship only a short while ago, Harry had been overly gentle and affectionate towards him with tiny delicate touches and whispered words. Draco let his feelings of contentment at the small actions wash over him and he let himself feel safe with Harry, at least for tonight; the Carrows were the furthest thing in his mind.

"I hope you shall not be late, Sirs," the driver commented in a rough cockney accent through the lowered electric window that separated the driver and passenger cabins.

"It is a private screening, they shall begin once we arrive," Draco informed the driver. "I hope we didn't inconvenience you being late."

"Not at all, Sir," the man assured him with a smile. "Shall we make our way to the theatre or would you like a little tour of London?"

Draco laughed. "We both live here," he said, but Harry spoke quickly after him.

"We'd like a tour," he said, and the driver smirked cheekily.

"A tour it is. I'll, uh, just pop this up for you," he said indicating to the electronic window separating the driver's and passengers' cabin, "so you have a bit of privacy – soundproofed, too, you know?" he added with a suggestive wink.

_Dirty old man. _

"Soundproofed, eh?" Harry teased, leaning into Draco for a kiss.

"We are not doing it in the back of the hire car," Draco insisted.

"Relax, Babe, I was only teasing you," Harry laughed. "I just want to hold you for a while, I feel like – I dunno, I just feel like I want to, it's important."

"Yes, well, cuddles are important I suppose," he agreed and he undid his seatbelt and sank his back into Harry's chest, holding Harry's arms firmly around him as he gazed out the window at the passing city lights.

"I really did enjoy dinner tonight, even if it was a little weird," Harry whispered finally and Draco scoffed at the understatement. "Shush, it _was _lovely. I've been meaning to ask you what you wanted to do for Christmas, too. I mean, do you have anything you usually do?"

"Not really," Draco sighed, absentmindedly playing with the thick, dark hair on Harry's arms. "Last year I spent Christmas Day at the office working."

"Really?" Harry exclaimed softly, sounding surprised and a little hurt for Draco. "That's no way to spend Christmas," he commented running his fingers through Draco's angelic mane.

"It is when you don't have any family," he replied trying to sound casual but his tone betrayed some of his bitterness.

"You should spend Christmas with me," Harry suggested in a questioning manner. "I mean I'll have to go to the Weasley's for dinner, but Christmas morning is all yours. You could – We could spend the night together… if you wanted to?"

"You don't have to do that," Draco gasped trying to sit up from Harry's embrace so that he could turn and look at him. "I don't want to take you away from your Weasley family Christmas," he said sincerely, looking into Harry's forest green eyes; he might not like them but he knew how much they meant to Harry. "Truly I'll be fine on my own. Cal and I will probably hang out."

"Cal can have you at night then," Harry said. "Please Draco, it's our first Christmas together, spend at least part of it with me?"

"Okay, I'll stay with you on Christmas Eve," Draco agreed, failing to hide the smile he felt pulling at his lips. He wanted Harry to know he was happy about the offer, but he wanted to retain some semblance of dignity so he was keen to conceal just _how _happy it made him to some degree, if he could.

Draco leaned over and pressed a small button on the side of the car to open the intercom to the driver. "Take us to the theatre now please," he requested and the driver's voice came crackling back accepting the request.

"A theatre?" Harry asked finally curious enough about the second part of their date to question Draco about it.

"Yes, I've organized them to play one of my favourite movies just for us," Draco smiled settling back into Harry's arms. He felt his stomach flutter as Harry kissed the top of his head.

Finally he felt like they were having the kind of date he'd imagined them having.

* * *

I actually planned this to be pure fluff and romance, but it just refused to happen, there was too much between them I think and Harry just wouldn't let go enough to let Draco enjoy himself. So they argued and the pure fluff was tarnished with bitterness. Sad. But more realistic I hope.

Let me know peoples :D Who thinks its about time Draco got laid? Everybody say haaaayyyy! Hoooo! *waving hands in the air* (Sorry 90s flashback).


	12. One stupid little kiss

Thanks to Lex (Digitallace) for taking the time to beta this for me. Apparently, according to Lex, this is the chapter you've all been waiting for, so I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Chapter 12: One stupid little kiss

"Have fun boys," the chauffer toned suggestively as he wiggled his eyebrows. Draco thought he was definitely going to change driving companies; he never wanted to risk getting this guy again. The man looked like he wanted to join them in bed, or else film it for his viewing pleasure.

Harry forced a laugh before leaning in close to Draco's ear and whispering, "Back away slowly, don't show your fear."

Draco chuckled quietly and addressed the very forward driver. "Thank you for your time this evening and for being so patient with us, I'll fix up the company, but this is for you." Draco handed him an envelope with a few hundred pounds inside, making good on his promise to pay double for the extra time.

"Oh, thank you, Sir. That's very kind of you, that is," the driver gushed, slipping the envelope inside his coat pocket.

"Yes, well, good night," Draco smiled awkwardly and then turned to face Harry's apartment building as the limousine pulled out, back into the flow of traffic. Harry claimed his gloved hand and they both made their way inside, relieved to finally be rid of the creepy chauffer.

"What did you think of the movie?" Draco asked. He had thought for a while there in the middle of the film that Harry had fallen asleep on him since he had snuggled himself into Draco's arms almost as soon as they'd taken their seats in the cinema.

"It was good and surprisingly funny in some parts," he replied, "for an old movie anyway."

Draco had taken him to see _It Happened One Night_, a 1934 classic romantic comedy. Draco found he preferred older films to modern ones; they had such a wholesome, traditional feel to them. It Happened One Night was certainly his favourite for the romantic comedy genre, but it was no Doctor Zhivago, a movie he never failed to get choked up about. Doctor Zhivago was one of those films that he could have watched a thousand times and he would still sit there and hope that it would end differently, that Zhivago and Lara would find a way to be together. They never did.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked quietly, pulling Draco from his thoughts.

"Yes, I was just thinking," Draco replied. "There's so much that could keep us apart, isn't there?"

"Only if we let it," Harry answered tugging Draco into a reassuring embrace.

"Let's not let it," Draco agreed nuzzling into Harry's shoulder.

Somehow they managed to make their way into Harry's flat still wrapped around each other, neither willing to let go of the peace they'd finally found in their relationship. As soon as Harry's front door had clicked shut they came together in a forceful kiss, grabbing and pulling at any part of one another that they could reach. They stumbled together as one being into the living room tripping over everything in their path but holding each other up; neither could think of anything else except the taste and feel of the man clinging on to them. When their burning lungs demanded air they finally broke apart, panting, and gazed at the other, enraptured by what they saw before them.

Harry was the first to move, he didn't speak, he simply slipped his hands under the shoulders of Draco's jacket and let it slip down his body to the floor. His eyes held Draco's stare as his hands moved to the buttons on Draco's shirt and began to undo them one by one. Draco stood still letting Harry do with him as he wished, his chest heaving under Harry's hands as he was slowly undressed. Harry's rough palms traced down the length of Draco's arms as he removed the crisp white shirt that covered them, admiring the toned limbs and the strength he felt in them. Draco stood before him with his pale torso exposed to Harry's unwavering gaze; this was not the first time Harry had seen Draco without a shirt but it was the first time he was allowed to study him so thoroughly. The scars were still there, etched into the perfect flesh, and it hurt to see them again. Harry knew then that it would hurt to see them always, to know that he was responsible for them, but it was something he would have to face within himself if he was to love Draco the way he wanted to.

Draco slowly began to undress Harry as he himself had been undressed; slowly as though he wanted to remember everything he was doing. He had been waiting for this for a very long time and he was going to enjoy every second. Harry's skin was a few shades darker than his own and smooth, but not unmarked; Harry carried his own scars which he knew would each tell their own story about a moment in Harry's life.

Harry reached out and took Draco's hand to lead him into the main bedroom, the one room in this flat Draco had not spent very much time in. Harry threw Draco a crooked smile as if to say 'well, here we are' and, not knowing what else to do, he sat on the edge of the bed. Draco bent down and kissed Harry dipping his tongue lightly inside Harry's mouth while gently coaxing him to lay back and climbing up to straddle his hips as he did. Harry's body flushed with desire and his flesh tingled with anticipation and nerves. Harry had imagined himself in this situation a thousand times, he had wanked to vivid images of Draco straddling him as he was now, kissing him and licking him as he was now, but it was nothing like what he was experiencing; he felt lost and he didn't know what to do with himself. He cringed at his own awkwardness and released a breathy chuckle.

"What?" Draco asked curiously, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the flat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just me," Harry replied, chuckling uncomfortably. "I'm nervous, you're making me feel like a virgin all over again."

Draco's eyes brightened at the confession and Harry could tell he was delighted to have such an affect. "Don't be nervous, my little virgin Harry, I'll take good care of you," he teased; pressing sweet kisses to Harry's neck.

"I know you will," Harry replied honestly. He let himself be taken by the lust building up inside of him and the _need _he felt to be closer to Draco, to pull him inside him and never let go.

"I want to take care of you," Draco whispered to him again before sliding off Harry's lap and on to the floor so that he was free to unbuckle Harry's belt and pants and slide them off.

As many times as he had playfully tried to catch Harry in the shower, Draco hadn't managed to see Harry naked before this and so he let himself enjoy the sight of Harry unclothed and staring up at him. "You are so fucking sexy," Draco whispered thickly as he ran his palms up and down Harry's thighs.

Harry just groaned as Draco finally took his cock into his mouth and began to work it over with an expert tongue. For a brief moment Harry wondered how many times Draco had done this, but he banished the thought just as quickly; there was no point getting jealous over past lovers, after all he had quite a few himself. But no more, Draco was it.

Harry focused on what Draco was doing to him and let himself get lost in the smoky grey eyes that stared back at him. The sight of his cock plunging in and out of those petal pink lips while Draco gazed up at him with wisps of angel blond hair hanging low over his eyes was enough to bring him dangerously close far quicker than he would have liked. "Ugh, Draco," Harry gasped pleading with his tone for his boyfriend to stop and reaching down to him with his hands.

Draco grinned around his cock and released it with a careless pop taking pleasure in the wet slap it made as it connected with Harry's muscled stomach. "Tell me what you want, Harry," Draco requested seductively.

"Fuck me, Draco, please," Harry begged desperately; perhaps putting it on a little knowing it was what his lover wanted to hear. He did want to be fucked, and he wanted to be fucked well, and as much as he knew he was going to get what he wanted anyway, it didn't hurt to keep his man happy with his pleading.

Draco made a satisfied groan before descending on Harry, pulling him close and distracting him with kisses as he leaned over to Harry's top drawer where he was sure he would find lubricant. Bingo. Draco slicked up two of his fingers and after teasing Harry's entrance slipped one of them inside. Harry clenched around the intrusion but relaxed with a little persuasive massaging from Draco. It wasn't long before Draco was able to slip in a second finger, and then, after further stretching and gentle massaging, a third.

"I'm ready," Harry declared after he had begun to push back on Draco's fingers. "I'm ready _now_."

Draco's cock was harder than he could ever remember it being before, he had never wanted to be inside someone as much as he did Harry. "Okay, Baby," he whispered as he began to slick himself up. He positioned himself at Harry's entrance and began to massage the Auror's tight thighs to help him relax as he pushed slowly inside.

The pace he entered Harry was maddeningly slow, all his instincts urged him to sheath himself completely and pound into Harry like a madman, but he knew it had been months at least since Harry had been with someone and he didn't want to hurt him. It had been that long since he'd been with someone too, ever since Harry reentered his life he hadn't wanted anyone else.

"Are you okay?" Draco forced himself to ask. His desire felt like it was burning his dick right off and it was hard to concentrate on anything else.

"Yeah, just push, Baby, I'm okay," Harry told him and he took the permission gladly pushing in harder and making Harry wince.

"I'm sorry! Are you okay?" he gasped at seeing the pain reflected in those clear green eyes; his desire ebbed in the wake of the knowledge he'd hurt his lover.

"I'm fine I swear," Harry huffed, clearly frustrated by how long it was taking for Draco to get going and make love to him properly.

Feeling Harry's frustration Draco pulled out slightly before pushing back in pumping shallowly at first until he was able to work his way fully inside. Harry grunted with each thrust as Draco moved harder and faster, he clutched at Draco's bare back dragging his nails across the pale skin that was now coated in a thin sheen of sweat. When Harry released an animalistic cry Draco knew he'd hit his mark and he positioned himself to repeat the move again, dragging a similar reaction from the writhing man underneath him. Harry seemed lost to the sensations Draco was providing him with and the blond thought he'd never looked more beautiful. He wanted to watch Harry like this forever; he wanted to feel this free forever, he wanted to stay buried in his lover always as he watched him moan so openly for him. But Harry was so tight around him and his stamina could only hold for so long, and when Harry's dry throat desperately cried out Draco's name as he climaxed, Draco could not have lasted much longer even if his life depended on it.

Draco collapsed on top of Harry and the Auror's release made them both sticky, but Draco didn't care, in fact, he loved it. Neither had the strength to say anything just yet and so they simply lay together panting as they rode out the after effects of their mutual orgasms.

"I'm having difficulty breathing," Harry rasped out eventually and Draco jumped away from him as though he were on fire.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed repositioning himself alongside Harry's naked form rather than on top of him.

"It's okay, just after a while air kind of becomes necessary," Harry chuckled. "So, shower?"

Draco looked down at the mess that covered them both and nodded. "Probably best."

After thoroughly exploring each other in the shower together the two men finally let their exhaustion consume them in sleep. They both felt fresh, clean and completely satisfied as they entwined their limbs together and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Draco woke the next day to the calming sounds of Harry's soft snores and he replayed their night together over in his mind. It hadn't started out as well as he'd hoped, but now that he thought on it he knew he couldn't have rightly expected anything else from the protective Gryffindor. Still, it didn't matter now, all that mattered was that they were finally at peace in their relationship; Harry understood that Draco couldn't be caged the way he had been and they had taken an important, and incredible, step last night when they made love. Harry was unbelievable, so free and open during sex, he wasn't worried about being meek or quiet, the man was vocal and unashamed. It was beautiful to see.

Draco's stomach called for food as it rumbled inside him and Draco began to wonder if Harry had anything in his fridge – since he'd been living at the hotel for a week, Draco guessed not. He looked down at the peaceful man beside him and decided not to wake him; he would just slip out quietly to the bakery and then surprise him with a big breakfast.

Draco had lots of experience untangling himself from naked men and slipping away unnoticed and he thought about this as he carefully extracted himself from Harry's arms, the difference this time being that today he would be coming back – hurrying back in fact, as he couldn't wait to be next to Harry once more.

--

Harry woke not long after Draco had gone and stretched indulgently, feeling his satisfaction curl through his limbs and out through the smile that played on his lips. He turned in his sheets to face his lover and opened his eyes to find him – gone?

"Draco?" Harry called out, frowning in confusion and disappointment at having to wake up alone. "Draco? Are you there?"

This was beginning to feel sickeningly familiar and his heart rate began to quicken as he felt an anxious fear grip his heart. Where was his lover? He crawled out of bed and went to search the bathroom – nothing – the lounge, Draco's old room – nothing. Harry felt himself start to completely panic – what if he'd been kidnapped? What if the Carrows had him? Oh God, what if he was- no, he wouldn't think that way.

Harry pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper and it was then he saw that Draco's clothes were gone. Did the Carrows dress him before they kidnapped him? Harry started to find a new emotion creeping in through his blind fear for Draco's safety – betrayal – did Draco _leave him_? He didn't let himself think on it too much and instead grabbed his wand to check for faults or tampering of his wards – again, nothing, they were perfect. It could only mean that Draco had dressed and left of his own accord.

"Why would he leave me?" Harry whispered to himself. He worried that Draco was vulnerable out there on his own, but there was another thought that was more prominent than his worry; _he's left you before. _

Suddenly Harry felt like he was seventeen again waking up alone in Grimmauld Place to find that Draco had disappeared, left the country and left him only a note. A note. Was there another goodbye note waiting for him somewhere? Harry went back to his room and searched on and under his pillows; he flung back the sheets and checked under the bed – no note. What was Draco thinking of? Was he going to escape again and rebuild his life with a new name in a new country?

Part of him knew he was being silly; things were different this time. They weren't kids any more, it wasn't just a passing kiss, and Harry was sure Draco loved him, or was at least well on his way to loving him, but he couldn't help but think how much it felt like what happened ten years ago.

"Where are you?" he whispered, fear clutching at his heart again and he slumped helplessly on the end of his bed.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't hear the front door click open or close shut, but he heard the footsteps in the entry way and he glanced up to his door. Draco? Harry jumped off the bed and flew into the kitchen where Draco now stood pulling a range of doughnuts, danishes, cakes, slices, and breads out of several white paper bags.

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed when he saw him and then smiled. "I was hoping you'd still be sleeping, I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed." Draco's smile vanished when he saw the panicked look his Harry's eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"You went out alone?" Harry accused. "Why didn't you wake me, I would have taken you out to breakfast!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," Draco replied trying to placate him. "I had my Sickle portkey with me the whole time, and my wand, I was very careful I promise."

"I don't care! You can't just leave me, Draco!" he growled angrily and he stormed out of the kitchen, wanting to escape, but knowing he couldn't leave in the middle of a fight.

Draco followed him out into the lounge, the array of baked goods forgotten. "What's this about? I expected you to be angry that I went out alone, but it sounds like you're upset about something else. What is it?"

"You shouldn't be so careless with your life," Harry mumbled bitterly, but Draco heard him.

"I wasn't careless with my life, I've been running from these people for a decade, I know how to take care of myself," he retorted.

"You've been running from them by hiding as a muggle, you haven't used magic for years, you don't know jack shit!" Harry shouted, whirling on him with his green eyes wide and fiery.

"I know how to use a portkey, it would have brought me straight back here to you, I was fine and you know it!" Draco yelled back. "What the fuck is this all about!?"

Draco's voice echoed into silence and it hung between them for several moments until Harry took a deep breath to respond. "Why did you leave me?" he whispered weakly.

"I went to get breakfast." He had told Harry this already and it was evidenced enough by the food he brought back with him.

"Not this morning," Harry replied as though that were enough of an explanation. "I woke up by myself and all you left me was a fucking _note!_"

"What are you talking about? I didn't leave you a note, I was only gone for half an hour," Draco huffed; he didn't understand what Harry was talking about.

"That night you left after your parents' funeral," Harry spat, "_why?_"

Draco stepped back shocked at the tone of Harry's voice. "That was nearly ten years ago," he answered softly, breathing in his hurt. "What's this all about?"

"You left me," he replied, his voice breaking just a little at the end.

"Harry, that was forever ago. I don't understand. Why are you so upset?" Draco questioned, trying desperately to glean some meaning from Harry's fury as he could see the peace of their relationship disappear before him.

"Don't you know how much that hurt?" Harry confessed, sinking into the lounge suite and burying his face in his hands. "To find you gone after we'd – after everything. You didn't even stay to talk to me about it."

Draco's confusion suddenly turned into anger; he could have slapped Harry for being so stupid, for throwing away all the wonderful things they'd done the night before and tarnishing them with an argument instead of snuggling up in bed with him and a box of doughnuts like he was supposed to. "After we what?" he snapped. "Nothing happened! We kissed, that's it, one stupid little kiss! What was there to talk about?"

Harry's eyes bore into him looking scandalized and hurt at his words. "A stupid kiss? That's it?" he asked seriously, but Draco didn't respond, he didn't know what to say. What could he say? It was just a kiss. "I'm going for a walk," Harry said at last. "Don't do anything stupid."

And with that he was gone, and Draco was left standing open mouthed in Harry's lounge room.

* * *

Harry walked through the streets of London for nearly an hour until he was thoroughly lost, both physically and in his thoughts. The argument he'd had with Draco, his anger at the blond leaving him all those years ago, and his desperation to not lose him now, kept circling in his head until he was dizzy. All he wanted to do was rush back to his flat and hope that his boyfriend was still there waiting for him, but he knew he couldn't do that while he was still so confused. Draco would want to talk about it and he didn't know what to say. He felt like an idiot.

He needed to talk to someone logical and reasonable.

He apparated directly onto Hermione and Ron's doorstep inside their wards; he had always been keyed into their wards as though he lived there with them, and they were the same with his flat. It was only out of politeness and general courtesy that they knocked.

Ron answered the door and from the look on his face Harry realized he must have looked awful. "Is Hermione here?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's inside," Ron nodded. Rosie was on his hip. "What happened?"

"Draco and I had a fight," Harry explained. "I'm a complete dickhead." As soon as he swore he looked over at Rose. "Sorry," he said.

"You better come in then," Ron suggested as he stepped back to let Harry through. "I'd be more likely to believe that _he _was the di- um, you know," he said looking down at Rose who just smiled up at him.

"I dunno, I think it's me, I just want to talk to Hermione about it," Harry sighed and Ron nodded and led him into Rosie's nursery where Hermione was tidying up the little girl's toys.

"Harry!" She greeted him with a hug and a smile before noticing that something obviously wasn't right. "What's wrong?"

"I'm such a stupid idiot," he sighed and Ron put Rose into her play pen before they all shuffled out, each one hoping that Rose wouldn't add 'idiot' or 'dickhead' to her vocabulary any time soon.

"You better explain what happened," Hermione suggested when they all sat down in the lounge.

Harry told them everything about the date, their argument before dinner, their reconciliation, movie, sex – although that he was vague about – and then waking up alone that morning. Ron had intermittently gotten up to check on Rose, usually during the 'sex' and 'lovey' parts of the story, but had always returned not long after. Harry explained that he'd been worried at first when he'd found Draco gone, and then when he realized he'd gone willingly it was like he had a flashback to that morning all those years ago. Hermione sighed in understanding and Ron frowned.

"What morning?" he asked and Harry balked as he realized Ron didn't know about what happened with Draco.

"Um, well, do you remember when Draco got hurt and I sat with him in hospital?" Harry offered and Ron said that he did. "Well, the night after his parents' funeral I took him back to my place because he was really broken up about it and we kissed and fell asleep together. Then the next morning he left without waking me and I didn't see him again until just before Hermione's birthday."

"But that was years and years ago Harry," Ron replied. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Because I felt like an idiot, and he was gone anyway," Harry sighed. "I still feel like an idiot. He told me this morning that it was just a stupid kiss, that it didn't mean anything to him, but it did to me. I'm so stupid."

"You aren't stupid," Hermione reassured him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Yes, I am!" he protested, not wanting her to play down his idiocy just to make him feel better. "He's right, it was just a fucking kiss, and what is a kiss anyway? It's nothing, that's what! And I made a huge deal out of it for years and years. I'm stupid! I thought since it meant so much to me that it would to him too."

"Harry, he's not the same person he was then," Hermione reasoned, "and neither are you. It's a completely different situation now."

"I know that, I do," he sighed. "I know he cares about me now. I think he could even fall in love with me and I already love him, but that's just it, I have loved him for years. I know it's stupid of me to hold onto this, but I can't let it go. I've been holding on to it for ten years, that kiss was all I had of him and now he tells me it didn't matter. How can I just forget about that?"

"Because he loves you now, whether he did back then or not is irrelevant," Hermione chastised him. "Are you really going to punish him for not obsessing over a kiss you shared so long ago?"

"No, I suppose not," Harry sighed. "It's not really him I'm angry with, just myself for being so naïve and stupid."

"Have you told Draco what that kiss meant to you?" she asked him.

"No! I would never!" he gasped, looking shocked that Hermione would even suggest it. "Its bad enough that _I _know how big a deal I made out of nothing, I don't want him to know."

"Well, personally, I think you should tell him, but it's up to you, really," she concluded and he nodded, but promised himself that Draco would never find out about his foolishness.

He thanked Hermione and Ron for listening to him and apologized to his red-haired friend again for neglecting to tell him about his first kiss with Draco. He kissed Rose in her feather soft strawberry hair and apparated back to his flat praying that Draco was still there waiting for him.

* * *

So Draco finally got laid. Let's hope Harry was brilliant enough in the sack that Draco is still there waiting for him.

Reviews are always appreciated. I will give them a good home, and love them, and care for them.


	13. The importance of communication

Author's note: Many, many, many thanks to Alexis who was awfully nice about the fact I'd quite clearly lost my mind and given her the biggest (literally) piece of shit chapter I've ever written. She said, very nicely I might add, 'Laurel, that is a piece of shit, do it again!' LOL! So I did and its much better. I now invite you all to enjoy what I like to call Chapter 13 round 2: the not complete crap version.

* * *

Chapter 13: The importance of communication

* * *

Harry's heart was heavy. It sat like a stone in his chest and remained there, refusing to soften.

_I'm an idiot, _he told himself. _A stupid idiot. How could I let something that happened a decade ago interfere with the relationship I have with Draco now?_

The stone got heavier as the voice in his mind spoke up. _Are you really an idiot? _it said. He hated this voice. It was this voice, this small, insignificant, but somehow very influential part of his consciousness that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. It was the Devil on his right shoulder when his Angel, Draco, sat on his left. They were at war with one another, his Angel telling him he cared and he would be able to see that if only he had the courage to open the door and step inside his flat, but the Devil left his Angel's words in doubt. _'Just a kiss' he says, it didn't mean anything to him, it still doesn't. _

His heart ached as it gave an awkward heave.

_He doesn't love you like you love him. What if he's 'just having sex' with you while you're busy making love to him?_

No. That couldn't be right… could it?

No. It couldn't.

From somewhere deep inside him, Harry found his Gryffindor courage and he turned the knob on his front door. He only hoped his Angel was right and that Draco was still here waiting for him. He held his breath as he moved into the silence of his apartment, his heart thumping as he searched for his boyfriend. It was so quiet; he couldn't possibly still be here.

Harry felt his heart swell with gratitude as he spied his perfect lover sound asleep on his couch. Draco was here. Still here, waiting for him. He watched him for a moment, paused in his relief and his uncertainty of his next actions. Should he wake him, or let him sleep? Draco was lying on his back with one leg dangling off the edge of the couch; he had his arm resting over his eyes to block out the sunlight streaming in through the window, and his white blond hair stuck up cutely at odd angles. Harry moved over to him and knelt on the floor by his head, he wished Draco hadn't covered his face with his arm; he would have liked to see him completely. Deciding to see if Draco woke from a gentle rousing, Harry leaned in and gently kissed the tip of Draco's fingers, earning himself an adorable twitch. He kissed him again, and then again, before receiving a slap in the face for his trouble. "Ugh, what?" Draco groaned sleepily as he squinted around the bright room a bit confused. "Harry?"

"I'm here," Harry whispered, reaching out to squeeze Draco's shoulder.

"Did I just hit you?" Draco asked, frowning with worry. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I deserved it, I promise," he replied with a wry smile.

"Yes, well, I suppose that's what happens when you sneak up on sleeping people," Draco commented, yawning widely.

"I suppose that's true, but that's not what I meant," Harry replied. Each word came with an implied apology, but Draco's face told him he was still wary of accepting it.

"I know what you meant," he said, displaying his hurt and accusing Harry with his tone.

"You have every right to be angry with me, I'm rather angry with myself, too," Harry said, sitting back from Draco on his heels to give the man some space. "I have a speech prepared to apologize, I practiced it all the way back, do you want to hear it?"

"No," he replied without hesitation, sitting up from his horizontal position on the couch so that his face was not quite so close to Harry's.

"I – ah, no?" Harry stuttered, obviously not expecting Draco to refuse. He wasn't sure what to do now, if Draco didn't want him to apologize then what did he want?

"The only thing I want to hear from you is an explanation about what the _fuck _happened this morning," Draco growled at him.

"It was nothing," Harry replied, chewing at his lip uncomfortably.

"Of course it was," he scoffed, lounging back on the sofa and fixing Harry with a challenging glare. _Lie to me again, Harry, I dare you, _his grey eyes pierced through the flippant comment Harry was trying to use to avoid having to explain himself.

"It's so stupid, Draco, it doesn't even matter," Harry told him, shaking his head. Harry didn't want to confess his worries to Draco; how could he tell his boyfriend that he was wondering how much he really cared about him? If Harry was wrong his lack of faith would crush Draco, and if he was right – well, did he really want to know if he was right?

"If it bothers you, then of course it matters," Draco insisted. Silence hung between them as Draco waited for Harry to answer his original request.

"I don't want to fight with you," Harry sighed tiredly. Hermione had seemed so right when he'd left her house, things were different, they weren't kids anymore; of course Draco cared. But in the time it took for him to arrive home he had started to wonder again.

He'd chosen not to use the Floo network but rather to Apparate and walk so that he could put together his apology, but that short amount of time had been detrimental to his confidence. He'd reflected back on his relationship with Draco, even back when they were younger, it had always been Harry to care for Draco, he'd always been of some use to him and maybe that's all he was to Draco – _useful_. He'd saved his life a few times, spent days with him at the hospital, cared for him after his parents' funeral, taken him back to visit their graves, and now it seemed like he was the only person who stood between Draco and the Carrows. What was he _really _to this man that he loved so much? A soul mate, or simply convenient?

"Didn't anybody ever tell you that fighting was healthy for a relationship?" Draco replied, still insisting that Harry have it out with him. "What _isn't _healthy is when we ignore issues."

"Actually, I've never heard that before," Harry lied, some of the hurt he felt at the questions his Devil was making him ponder rose to the surface as growled his displeasure at being forced into an argument. Harry turned from Draco and took a few steps away so he could have his own space.

"Does this have something to do with the night I stayed with you after my parents' funeral?" Draco pressed. He'd spent the hours Harry had been gone going over and over everything Harry had said. It had been so unexpected when Harry had brought up that night after so long; they'd never really talked about it before. He'd thought about it over the years, of course – he'd kissed Harry Potter for fuck's sake, how could he not think about it? But that was all, wasn't it? Just a kiss. He hadn't imagined that Harry had thought it anything more than that, surprising maybe that he'd kissed another boy, his hated rival at that, but to think it anything more than an unexpected lapse of judgment? Draco hadn't thought it possible.

"You were right the first time, it was so long ago, it doesn't even matter," Harry replied, he was up, pacing back and forth across his lounge room.

"Are you worried you're going to wake up and I'll be gone again?" Draco asked, refusing to give up on their fight. He could tell the only way he would get anything out of Harry about this was if he forced it out. "That's not something you have to worry about, I'm not seventeen anymore."

"I know that," Harry bit back a little roughly, before releasing some of his anger with a sigh. "I'm not worried about that, not really. I know you wouldn't just leave me without saying anything."

"I'm not going to leave you at all," Draco replied firmly, hoping his conviction came through in his voice.

"You don't know that."

"So, you _are _worried about that?"

"No, of course not… I dunno," Harry crinkled his brow and gazed down at the tips of his scuffed shoes. "I don't know what to say."

"Tell me the truth," Draco said, suggesting as much as he was demanding. "What's bothering you?"

"It's nothing, it's just me," Harry shrugged, he'd already made too big of a deal out of it already. "I'm being stupid."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I _feel_ stupid, we haven't even been together that long, but it feels like forever," he confessed as Draco walked over to join him in the middle of the lounge room floor. He didn't try to touch him though, which was probably a good thing since right now Harry was likely to have shrugged him off.

"I know what you mean," he replied quietly, "and if you're scared you shouldn't feel stupid, I'm scared too."

"I'll protect you no matter what, Draco," Harry assured him quickly, looking up to meet his gaze. He needed Draco to know that he didn't have to be with him in this way if he didn't want to; Harry would have protected him even if he wanted to break up. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Will you forget about the fucking psycho siblings for a minute!" Draco exclaimed angrily, and Harry jumped at the unexpected change in his tone. "I don't mean I'm scared of them, I'm not really. This has been going on far too long for me to be scared of them anymore. I'm scared of us."

"You are?" he asked, suddenly feeling terribly confused.

"Yes, come here," Draco requested, holding his arms out for Harry to step inside. "I want to make sure I have a hold of you this time so you don't run away on me," he teased him slightly, and Harry blushed with embarrassment. He knew how juvenile it had been for him to run away in the middle of an argument, and he'd been wondering when Draco was going to berate him for it. Harry hesitantly went to him; not really having any good reason not to other than fear. "Don't think I get all mushy and open like this all the time, okay? I want a fair exchange; my mush for yours, agreed?"

"Depends on the quality of your mush," Harry quipped, already feeling comfortable in Draco's arms.

"Harry," he growled.

"Hey, you're the Slytherin here, it's not me we have to worry about ducking out of a fair exchange," he teased, and Draco slapped him on the bum.

"Okay, I'm trusting in your Gryffindor sense of fairness, so I'll confess," the blond spoke eventually after taking a moment to enjoy Harry's body moving up against his in protest to his smack. "We're only new, and there's so much going on in our lives right now that I'm worried we don't have a strong enough foundation for our relationship to last. I'm worried that one day you're going to realize exactly who it is you're with and remember everything I've done and that'll be it." His voice was solemn and quiet, and the silence hung between them after he'd finished speaking, while Harry processed what his boyfriend had said. This changed everything; Draco was scared too, scared of losing him. Harry was still in Draco's arms and the longer he waited to speak the tighter Draco held on to him.

"I remember everything you did," Harry whispered against Draco's shirt. "I haven't forgotten."

"Oh." It sounded like a whimper more than anything else; a terrified, helpless whimper.

Harry moved his head so his smooth cheek swept long and slow against Draco's; the intimate movement shot a shiver down Draco's spine and his breath caught. Harry's nose brushed the length of Draco's pointed one until their lips hovered so close that Draco could feel Harry's hot panting breath tickle the rough regrowth on his upper lip and chin.

It was Harry who moved first, pressing their mouths together and pushing Draco backwards, holding him up as he stumbled until the back of the Slytherin's thighs reached Harry's dining room table. Draco moaned lustily as Harry continued to push him back on to the table top, crawling up after him and straddling his hips. Draco grabbed Harry's shirt and pulled him down into another kiss, but when the Auror began to work on Draco's belt the blond begged him to stop.

"Wait! Stop! We can't have make up sex yet, we haven't finished our argument," Draco panted, his cock pushing hard against Harry's thigh objecting to the call for reason to prevail.

"What else is there?" Harry asked sounding mildly annoyed. Draco wanted to give in to the beautiful red flush of Harry's cheeks and let the dark haired man have his way, but he needed to know what had made Harry so upset that morning.

"Your side, what happened this morning?" he asked. Harry didn't move and Draco wondered whether they should be having such a serious conversation like this, with two eager cocks just waiting to get to know each other better.

"I freaked when you weren't here, I thought you'd been attacked," Harry answered after a slight pause. His voice shook slightly with anger as he relived his feelings from that morning. He moved then, climbing off the table and watching Draco as he slid across the varnish to sit on the edge of the furniture.

"You were talking about the first time I left you when we were seventeen," Draco reminded him as Harry straightened his clothes.

"Yes, well, waking up without you beside me when I expected you to be there felt remarkably similar this morning as it did ten years ago," Harry bit back.

"Were you angry with me when I left you back then?"

"A bit yes, you could have at least woken me up to tell me you were leaving," he admitted. It had hurt at first, more than it had made him angry; the anger came later, but was quickly replaced with regret and longing.

"Maybe I should have," Draco nodded, thinking back to that day so long ago. He remembered watching Harry sleep for a while, arguing with himself about whether or not to wake him, in the end he'd decided not to. He crossed his arms on his chest, not liking the feeling of having Harry so near to him, yet so far. "And the kiss, you were talking about that this morning too."

"Draco, don't," Harry whimpered, shaking his head and walking further away.

"What?"

"It's stupid; I don't want to talk about it," he insisted.

"The kiss was stupid?" Draco asked, knowing exactly the reaction he wanted to get from Harry. He'd remembered painfully that he'd called the kiss stupid earlier that day and it was then that Harry left. It obviously hurt him and he wanted him to admit that it hurt, so he could properly apologize.

"No! That kiss was _not_ stupid!" Harry fervently exclaimed, snapping his eyes up to where Draco sat.

"I know," Draco nodded; glad he got Harry to open up slightly. Now all he had to do was keep him talking.

"You said it was stupid this morning," Harry accused and Draco let him see how ashamed he was.

"I know I did, but it wasn't stupid," he promised. "I needed that kiss, it made me feel better."

"Oh, good," Harry scoffed, sarcastically. He sighed regretfully; he couldn't begrudge Draco seeking meaningless comfort after his parents' death.

"Harry, talk to me, please," Draco begged. "Tell me the truth."

"I don't want to," he pouted childishly, and fidgeted where he stood by the sofa.

"_Please._"

"Urgh, fine," Harry snapped, stamping his foot. He circled the room like an impatient cat. "It was my first kiss with another guy, okay? I liked it – a lot – _obviously_, and it's embarrassing."

"You're embarrassed that I was your first kiss?"

"First kiss with _a guy_," he quickly corrected, as if that somehow mattered now, "and no, of course I'm not embarrassed that it was with you." Harry huffed, and continued speaking with an uncomfortable frown. "I told Cal that you were my first kiss, he was asking about our history and I was drunk so I told him. He said something like 'he was so good he made you gay'." Draco chuckled lightly – that sounded exactly like Cal – but he stopped laughing very quickly when he saw the look on Harry's face. "Maybe you didn't _make me_ gay," Harry continued, "but you certainly made me question myself and what it was I wanted in life and love and all that. It just sucked a bit to hear that it obviously didn't mean that much to you."

"I'm sorry," Draco apologized sincerely. "I love that we kissed back then; it was like you'd forgiven me for all the mistakes I'd made. I was extremely pissed off that you drugged me so we couldn't continue, but I have always remembered fondly that we kissed that once so long ago."

"You have?"

"Always, even before you barged your way back into my life," he teased. "That kiss was a lot of things, Harry, but it was never stupid. I'm sorry I let you think even for a moment that I thought it was."

Harry stared at Draco for a moment before walking back to the sofa to sit. They were both frightened of losing each other, both frightened that they weren't strong enough to last. What if they were right to be frightened? What if there was just too much between them?

But what was between them, really? Draco's past, which Harry was well aware of and had moved beyond many, many years ago. The depth of Harry's emotion for Draco, which he was worried Draco might find… desperate, creepy, amusing? Harry often thought it was all three of those things – he'd been in love after one kiss, a love that spanned a decade – and they were _his _feelings! What would Draco think of it!?

He felt the couch move as Draco sat beside him. "Can you forgive me?" the blond whispered.

"You prat, you don't have anything to be sorry for," Harry replied, with a slight smile. Doomed to failure or not, Harry wouldn't let Draco go as long as the man was happy to stay. "Do you forgive me?"

"As long as you promise not to run off in the middle of a fight," Draco said, with a soft, but serious, look. "If you need a break from the fight then we'll break, but don't leave me like that, okay?"

"Really, you want me to promise I'll fight with you? Can't I just apologize with a pair of diamond cufflinks or something?" Harry whined teasingly. "Wouldn't that be easier for everyone?"

"You tosser! Who do you think you are!? My Sugar Daddy?" Draco growled, leaping upon him and descending on Harry's most ticklish spots with wriggling fingers. "I'm richer than you'll ever be, Potter!"

"Ahh! Okay! I'm sorry!" Harry squealed trying to escape Draco's hold and end his laughing torture. "I'm sorry! I promise!"

"Do you?" Draco's attack intensified and Harry bucked underneath him.

"Yes! Yes! I promise!"

Draco pulled back. "What do you promise?" He looked down at Harry, who had wriggled them both on to the floor, with a meaningful gaze, and those forest green eyes stared back unwaveringly.

"I promise never to leave you," Harry said.

"In the middle of a fight?"

"Ever."

Draco's breath caught and he hesitated, but Harry didn't even blink. He didn't know what to say to that and so he didn't say anything, he simply leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry's taking from him his most precious gift. His kiss.

* * *

Christmas was soon upon them and, while Harry had to work on Christmas Eve, he was home in time to share some dessert with Draco who had agreed to spend the night with him. They cuddled up together in front of Harry's television to watch the classic version of Miracle on 34th Street, which was 'much better than the remake' according to Draco. Harry watched Draco's eyes flutter as the movie wore on and soon he was fast asleep in his arms, the most perfect gift Harry could ask for at this time of year.

Deciding not to move him, Harry, too, let himself drift off where he was and it wasn't until the morning sunlight invaded the small sitting room that either of them stirred. Draco woke first to find Harry's weight resting uncomfortably upon him, and his foot twisted at an odd angle. He groaned and elbowed the heavy man to get him to lay somewhere else.

"Mmnn, I was _comfortable_," Harry complained groggily as he sat up, rubbing his sleep caked eyes.

"Yes, but I wasn't," Draco retorted. "I think you've killed my foot." He stretched it out painfully, circling it one way and then another.

"Aw, Baby," Harry cooed around a large yawn. "Want me to kiss it better?"

"Shut up," Draco pouted. "You know what would make me feel better? Coffee."

Harry rolled his eyes, but took the hint and got up to make Draco a cup of coffee. He watched the blond snuggle back into the cushions on his couch and he smiled before making his way into the kitchen. He put together Draco's coffee quickly and warmed the mixture with his wand before taking it back out to him. "Do you want some breakfast?" he asked.

"No, thanks, not right now," Draco replied, groaning unpleasantly as he forced his body to sit up. He thanked Harry as he took the mug, and commented that, "couches were never meant to sleep more than one person."

"Please, you had me practically trapped there with you," Harry quipped. "So, no breakfast, how about presents?"

"You greedy little gift-loving present whore," Draco gasped with an over exaggerated look of shock on his face. "You can't even wait until I finish my coffee, can you?"

"I didn't mean _my_ present, I meant _yours_," Harry laughed. "Did you want to see it?"

"Yes, well, I don't need coffee that much," he replied, amending his original sentiment. "Bad for you, really, isn't it?"

"Terrible."

"Right then, off you go," he instructed, a large smile on his face. "Go get it."

Harry laughed even harder at this. Who was the gift-whore now? "I would, but it's big," he replied, trying to look innocent.

"Big?" Draco asked, his eyes growing in excitement. "How big?"

"Too big for me to bring it to you," Harry sighed as if it was troublesome and Draco had already put his coffee down to get up. "_We'll_ have to go to _it_."

"Well then, I'd better get our coats," Draco suggested, almost bouncing to the cupboard in which they were kept. Harry watched him in delight and hoped that his 'present' stood up to the lead up it was getting.

In no time at all the two of them were dressed, standing in the kitchen, and ready to brave the winter cold outside. Harry held out his hand to Draco. "We'll have to Apparate there," he said and Draco took his hand without hesitation. "Are you ready?"

"Where are you taking me?" Draco asked curiously instead of answering his question. "I can't think at all what this present might be. I thought maybe a spontaneous island holiday, but I know you have to be at the Weasley Christmas dinner tonight."

Harry just smiled in return. "Are you ready?"

"Fine, yes I'm ready," Draco huffed, and he'd barely finished his sentence before Harry had Apparated, pulling him roughly into an entirely new location. A filthy alleyway to be exact, but that wasn't unusual for Apparating wizards – they must still be in the muggle world. "I still hate Apparating," he grumbled.

"You'll have to wear this." Harry pulled out a strip of black fabric; a blindfold. Draco went to protest, but he didn't really have time before Harry was behind him, covering his eyes, and tying a knot in the material at the back of his head. He couldn't see a damn thing.

"If you walk me into the middle of nowhere and leave me there, I will never, _ever _forgive you," he grumbled.

Harry came up next to him and gripped his arm firmly; Draco clung to him, feeling a bit vulnerable with one of his senses stripped so thoroughly from him. "I wouldn't ever expect you to," Harry replied, and then he began to walk him forward.

Draco stepped forward awkwardly. He trusted Harry completely and he knew nothing was going to happen to him, but he couldn't help thinking that he was going to walk into a wall or something equally unpleasant.

They were still outside; he could hear the cars driving past them on the road, and other people walking by wishing them a Merry Christmas. He wondered what they thought of him being led somewhere blindfolded.

He heard the suction of an opening door and the whoosh of it closing behind them as all the outdoor noises around him were abruptly cut off.

"Good morning, Sirs," Draco heard a stranger greet them. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Harry replied. "Seems a bit unfair they have you working on Christmas day."

"Just another day to me, Sir," was the response and soon Draco heard the familiar ping of an elevator.

"_Going up,_" the elevator informed them, and after a long ride then said, "_Penthouse._"

"Penthouse?" Draco asked incredulously. "Where the fuck are we?"

"It's not finished," Harry said, sounding a bit nervous all of a sudden. His voice echoed as if they were in an empty room and Draco began to guess at where they were. "But I wanted to show you today… because it's Christmas."

"It'd be nice if I could actually _see _it, Harry," Draco complained lightly. "Can I take this stupid thing off now?"

"Okay," he conceded, reluctantly it sounded, and began to undo the ties of Draco's blindfold.

Draco opened his eyes at last and he saw for the first time a large light drenched room empty of everything but a few paint stained fabric covers and some construction tools. The room was huge, bigger than any room in his old apartment. "Wow," he breathed; the view from the window was fantastic.

Harry was standing close behind him and kissed the back of his neck. "Merry Christmas," he said.

"Harry, I'm jumping to all sorts of conclusions here and I'm going to need you to tell me exactly what this is," he told his boyfriend, turning into Harry's arms and facing him.

"Well, I know it's a little hard to imagine right now, but this would be your living room," he replied, pulling away from Draco and walking to the opposite wall. "You can have your lounge here, a big home theatre system so you can watch all your old movies right here, and over here, if you wanted," he said crossing the room again, "you can have your dining room table. Although, there is also room for a dining table next to the kitchen, but you can have two; one for formal dinners, and one for casual ones."

"Harry! Would you stop for a second!?" Draco demanded. "You bought me a penthouse apartment in London for _Christmas!?_" Harry had certainly stopped talking, but was refusing to look at him. "Jesus, Harry! I only got you a watch and a couple of books!"

"I couldn't really afford this on my own so I sold your old apartment," Harry confessed, anxious about Draco's reaction to that piece of information. He knew the blond hadn't really had any attachment to it so he assumed he wouldn't care; besides, there was no way Draco could continue living there when it was likely the Carrows knew where it was. All in all, he hadn't thought twice about selling it, but right now Draco looked a little annoyed and Harry was suddenly not feeling so confident. "All your things are being thoroughly examined by Ministry wizards to make sure they're safe and then they will be brought here." Draco's mouth hung open in shock; Harry had _sold _his old apartment. "Or you could just buy all new things, I wasn't sure what you'd want so I thought I'd let you decide."

"You – you – what?" he babbled.

"It's completely safe," Harry continued, not giving Draco time to really process what was going on. "Nobody in this building knows that there is a penthouse suite, they all think the levels finish on the one below. The Carrows will never find you here; I've hidden it with the Fidelius charm. I'm the only one who knows the exact location; I'm your secret keeper."

"Just stop please," Draco requested, sounding exhausted. "I need to sit down for a minute." There was nowhere to sit in this empty room and so Draco turned and walked down the corridor until he found his new main bathroom. He was able to rest his nervous, unsteady legs as he sat on the closed toilet lid. Harry followed him down there and just stared at him nervously.

"Have I done the wrong thing?" he asked timidly. "You asked me to arrange somewhere else for you to stay… I thought you'd be happy about this. Your own place…"

"I am happy, it's just-" Draco sighed. "You bought me a new apartment?"

"Technically it's _our _apartment," Harry admitted. "It's in my name, too, I thought maybe one day, when we were ready, we might want to…" Harry was suddenly aware of how that sounded, rather presumptuous really; they'd been practically living together for a while now, but hadn't really talked about making it permanent because neither of them were ready to take that step.

Draco looked up at him leaning against the bathroom doorway; Harry was trying so hard to look 'casual', but his tension was shown clearly in his tight muscles and firmly folded arms. _"Live together?" _Draco finished.

"When we're ready, and even if we are never ready… I mean, that'd be okay, I still have my flat, I haven't sold it or anything," he said, but Draco could tell he was lying through his teeth. If they were never ready to move in together he knew Harry would not be 'okay' with it, he would be crushed.

"I can't believe you did all this without _asking _me about it," Draco whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean, I get the exciting surprise, and my God, I am _certainly _surprised, but fucking hell, Harry… didn't you think you should have _asked _me?"

"I asked Cal, he helped me choose everything," Harry whimpered a little. "We walked through so many apartments. He said you'd love this one… I'm so sorry. I should have asked you, it's just when I chose it you weren't exactly leaving the house very much and you were so angry with me…"

Draco sighed. He knew he should be angry with Harry for this – in fact, there were lots of things he should probably be angry with him about – but he didn't have the energy. He was starting to realize that, if he let himself get annoyed over everything Harry did, he would be angry with him forever. This was not a _small _thing by any means, but he hadn't even really given the new apartment a proper chance, and even after the small amount of it he'd seen it was obvious it was much better than his old flat. And he seriously _loved _this bathroom.

"Alright," he said finally. "You better show me around if I'm going to live here." Harry smiled at him in relief. "Don't think you're getting away with this though, you and I are going to have a _long _conversation about how _couples _make decisions _together_. Understood?"

"Absolutely, of course," Harry nodded enthusiastically, and pulled Draco into a brief kiss to affirm their commitment to each other before sheepishly taking him on a tour of their new apartment – well, _Draco's _new apartment.

As they moved through each room, Draco thought he could see himself living here with Harry very happily one day.

* * *

Author's note: Yes, Harry is a little bit sensitive, but I love him that way. Also, I know technically Harry shouldn't have been able to sell Draco's apartment, but there is one FACT that you may be forgetting which means he can. He's Harry Potter, okay! He can do ANYTHING! lol. Well, seriously, I just figured he was a wizard and since it was a muggle apartment etc. it wouldn't be too much trouble for him...


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